


it is the summer of the soul in December

by Leyenn



Series: Down to Minnesota [11]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, BDSM, Ball Squeezing, Bathing/Washing, Birthday, Birthday Presents, Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bracelets, Broken Bones, Bubble Bath, Cabins, Caning, Canon Injuries, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Cockwarming, Collars, Coming Out as Alien, Commitment, Consensual BDSM relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daniel just needs to be loved and hurt a little bit, Dirty Talk, Dom!Jack O'Neill, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Double Penetration, Embarrassment, Episode Related, Episode: s04e16 Trio, Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, F/F, F/M, Fantasizing, Fisting, Fix-It, Fluff, Found Family, Heroes fix-it, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is the most caring dom in the galaxy fight me, Jewelry, Kissing, Kneeling, Leashes, M/M, Massage, Meridian Fix-It, Mild Embarrassment, Minor Injuries, Mistletoe, Motorcycles, Multi, OT3, Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, POV Female Character, Painplay, Pet Names, Platonic Cuddling, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot, Polyamory, Polyandry, Rodney is less of an asshole but no less clueless, Sappy Song Lyric Title, Secular Christmas, Shibari, Shipmas, Shipmas 2020, Showers, Siblings, Simultaneous Orgasm, Snow, Snowball Fight, Spanking, Stealth Crossover, Sub!Daniel Jackson, Switch!Sam Carter, Switching, Team as Family, They Call Him Sir, Threesome, Threesome – F/M/M, Time Skips, Tinsel Bondage, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting, and their best friend and her adopted alien daughter, and their dad and his alien symbiote, coming out as kinky, except Sha're which makes me feel kinda bad, lifestyle d/s, sometimes a family is a dom a switch a sub and their platonic fourth, supportive family, teal'c ships it, the au that brought me a sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leyenn/pseuds/Leyenn
Summary: How they spend the holidays changes a lot through the years, but the important things don't really change at all.(or, every Christmas Day in a universe where our OT3 fall into each other and into BDSM midway through season one.)
Relationships: Cassandra Fraiser & Daniel Jackson, Cassandra Fraiser & SG-1 Team, Cassandra Fraiser/Sarah McGee, Jacob Carter & Samantha "Sam" Carter, Janet Fraiser & SG-1 Team, Mark Carter & Samantha "Sam" Carter, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, Samantha "Sam" Carter & Cassandra Fraiser, Samantha "Sam" Carter & Janet Fraiser, Samantha "Sam" Carter & Rodney McKay, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Vala Mal Doran/Cameron Mitchell
Series: Down to Minnesota [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963150
Comments: 24
Kudos: 30





	1. 1997

**Author's Note:**

> While this is OT3 rather than purely Sam/Jack, I wrote it using the Sam/Jack Shipmas prompts for 2020, and I dedicate this to the lovely people I've got to know on Discord while doing so. Thank you fellow shippers!
> 
> Title is from _The Muppet Christmas Carol_ , the official best Christmas movie ever.
> 
> Shipmas 2020 prompts used, not necessarily in order, for those who want to play spot-the-prompt: _Desire; "We're going to need a bigger tree"; Jack (and Daniel)'s first Christmas with Mark and family; Decorating; Christmas shopping; "How many candy canes have you eaten?"; Christmas in Atlantis during Sam's year in command._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _Solitudes_.

Sam's used to working through the holiday season. In DC she could hardly get away from knowing Christmas is creeping up – parties at the Pentagon she could only _mostly_ get out of, slushy snow on the sidewalk under her high heels, gaudy colored lights everywhere she looked. She's always looked forward to it - of course the Pentagon doesn't entirely shut down, even for Christmas Day, but so much goes quiet - it's the absolute best time to catch up on those projects she's never quite got time for. Especially with everyone who'd usually be distracting her happily tucked up at home with eggnog and too many pine needles.

Twenty-five floors under the mountain there are no decorations, no snow, no social obligations. Half the time she forgets it's even December until she resurfaces to go home and the chill hits her all over again.

"So I, um, I guess you have holiday plans?"

She blinks, looking up to where Daniel's sitting across from her. They're in her lab and there's no one else around, and but for his tone it's a perfectly innocent and friendly question… but it's Daniel asking, with just that hint of uncertainty that he's even allowed to ask and buried even under that, the briefest glimpse of that _need_ to belong that makes her heart ache for him. She thinks it always will. 

"Probably here," she admits.

His surprise is obvious. "On the base?"

"I've got a few projects…" But she trails off, because suddenly none of them seem that pressing, when she's realising what the question actually is. "Your last Christmas on Earth would have been… ninety-five?"

"Yeah." He sits back suddenly, with that look that says he's about to slip away. "I'm just going to-"

She stretches over and closes her hand around his wrist before he's out of reach, just a little tighter than casual. Daniel goes instantly still.

"I don't have plans," she says, more quietly and seriously than she quite needs to. 

Daniel's smile is still uncertain, almost shy, but the soft hope in his eyes is enough that Sam would forgo more than just some extra research time to keep him looking at her like that.

  


* * *

  


It's only been a few months since the fallout from Hathor, since Jack took them both fishing, since everything suddenly changed between them. She's still not completely sure what it is - what _they_ are, now, but she does know she wants to keep finding out. Nothing they've done even really counts as sex in her book, or dating, or even foreplay but for Jack's verbal teasing, and does it really count if that's no different in private than it is in public? And yet when they're together it's so incredibly intimate – beyond anything she's ever had, with anyone else – that she can't deny it any more. 

She's in some kind of relationship with these guys. These two guys. These two guys she's not allowed to want, let alone have. A relationship that might, possibly, probably, reach a point where it actually does include dating, whatever that means, and sex… and given where they're at right now, most likely sex that's much less vanilla than she's used to.

That just thinking about it makes her skin hot and her breath catch, is all the evidence she really needs that words like _might_ and _possibly_ are just lies she's still telling herself.

That she's currently _completely_ overthinking the right Christmas gifts for them both is a pretty clear sign, too.

Of course she wants to find the perfect gift for Teal'c as well, but he's Teal'c: she's pretty certain he'll appreciate anything she puts thought into, and while he's insatiably curious about these bizarre Tau'ri traditions, he's got nothing to compare to. Cassandra and Janet were easier, she always sends her dad the same thing, and she's already sent a package to Mark for him, Eleanor and the kids.

But now she's thinking how Daniel's spent the last two Decembers on an alien world, and that he's lost that new home and family he'd made all over again. She's thinking about those too-quiet, too-still moments that Jack doesn't think anyone can see, when he's forgotten again for just a second that he won't be spoiling Charlie on Christmas Day. 

There's nothing she can give either of them that will make it better, but she needs to try.

She's put up a tree in the corner of her living room that's slowly shedding needles onto the growing pile of gifts beneath it. The first week it was a palm-sized package from Cassie; a suspiciously wine-bottle-shaped box from the General; an envelope from her dad. By mid-December there's a book-sized parcel from Janet, a perfectly square one from Teal'c – she should have known he'd become a horridly efficient holiday shopper – and three different boxes from other colleagues that all sound suspiciously like candy.

Sam doesn't shop when she doesn't have to, as a rule. She hasn't shopped for a man… for someone she's _with_ … since Jonas, and the less she compares any of her team to him, the better. That neither Jack nor Daniel have beaten her to the punch is only slightly comforting, when it's the last weekend before Christmas and she's still wavering over what's even appropriate to give to colleagues, friends - a CO - that she's occasionally sleeping with, secretly, in a currently non-sexual but slightly kinky and emphatically not platonic sense.

She eventually finds Daniel's gift in a cramped antique store on a downtown side street, next to the high-end independent aromatherapist where she's just picked up a selection of simple but high quality clean-burning candles for Teal'c. She knows she wants to give it to Daniel the moment she sees it, and the feeling in her chest just reminds her that no, whatever this is between them, _platonic_ is definitely not the right word.

Jack's gift eludes her completely until the twenty-third. She's in her lab, the last day before she locks up and actually leaves the mountain for – at least in theory – an entire week. She's low-key panicking about it, just glad he's already signed out and not likely to roll up while she's ostensibly working and ask what's got her panties in a twist. Not that Jack would actually use such a cliché. 

It's just past fourteen hundred hours when the brainwave hits. She checks her watch, checks what she has left that absolutely needs to be done before she leaves: she's just about got time.

  


* * *

  


It's been dark for hours when she pulls up outside Jack's house, trying not to feel illicit and guilty and daring as she grabs her old kit bag from the trunk. There's nothing wrong or suspicious about two teammates coming to another's house on Christmas Eve. It's just sensible for them to pack to stay over, in a house that has plenty of space for them to all sleep separately, because it's Christmas and they're adults who know they're going to drink and not want to drive. There's nothing overly intimate about having planned a few meals to share, or cleaning out their own trees and bringing everything to open together, as friends, in the morning.

The door isn't locked. She walks into warmth, the scent of cinnamon and sugar, awful Christmas music playing over the sound of Jack's voice from the living room and an answering laugh from Daniel.

A different kind of warmth flickers in her chest, a flutter of nerves in her stomach. It's not as if they haven't been alone together or done anything since that first time, but this is… different, somehow. This isn't anyone trying to process a mission gone to shit, or taking comfort in the only other people who understand. They're not a day's drive from home, hidden away from the rest of the world, in the firelit privacy of Jack's cabin. 

This is Jack's house, where anyone knows to find him. This is Christmas, and they're just here to spend it together.

"In here," Jack calls, in answer to her nudging the door shut behind her. 

The tree is taller than hers, needles starting to brown a little around the base, festooned with enough twinkling lights and tinsel to wrap the stargate a few times over. There's fake snow on the windows and lights strung across the mantle over the fire, a small army of cards standing guard over it. Enough of them are hand-drawn and shedding glitter that Sam feels a sharp, bittersweet pang in her chest: they have to be from Cassie's classmates, who've taken to 'Colonel Jack' like a flock of ducklings. She has to look away quickly before she thinks too hard about how much those cards probably mean to him. 

She can't see the tree's pot for the wrapped gifts piled around it; she drops her bag beside it to unpack later and offers them both a smile that suddenly comes so easily, now that she's here and they're here and it's just the three of them at last.

Daniel smiles up at her from where he's sitting cross-legged by Jack's feet between the couch and coffee table, a glass in his hand. "Jack made eggnog," he says, and there's that happy light in his eyes. "It's pretty good, you should try some."

"It'll be better tomorrow when it chills. I figure T has to try it at least once," Jack says. "Hi, by the way."

"Hi." She has a powerful urge to just slip between them and settle herself right up against him. She doesn't think he'd mind, but…

"Don't think too much," Daniel murmurs. At her look his smile switches to something rueful, as if he's giving her a quick glimpse at what's under the seeming ease. "I'm trying not to. It's weird. I know."

"Nothing's weird," Jack says, immediately.

"We've had no crisis since Antarctica and we're all in one piece," Daniel retorts, but lightly. "Well, mostly." His palm glides over Jack's right knee, where he's still limping if anyone knows to look for it. "We don't have to think about the fate of the galaxy at all for days. It's _Christmas_. I've even slept for the last week, if you can believe that."

Jack snorts a laugh, giving her a _he's got a point_ look of his own. "Okay, it's kinda weird."

Half of her brain agrees, wants to think way too much. Sam listens to the other half, and to Daniel: steps between them to reach the couch and settles herself right up against Jack's side, so close he's got no choice but to put his arm around her.

Daniel makes a sound of clear, pleased surprise and shifts around to lean against her, crossing his forearms over her knee.

Her face feels hot, but she can't help smiling even as she ducks her head toward Jack's shoulder. "Well, since it was weird anyway," she mutters, and the heat of the blush pales in comparison to the warmth that floods through her when Jack laughs and it's a relaxed, relieved sound; when he tucks his arm tighter around her and Daniel settles more comfortably so that he can rest his head on her thigh.

"I'm glad you're sleeping," she says, reaches down to smooth his hair without really even thinking about it. He relaxes into that touch, into her; it takes just as little thought to let her hand stay there and keep stroking, curved gently over the crown of his head. "No more nightmares?"

"Are you going to stop doing that if I say no?" 

He asks it as if he's teasing, but she can hear that slightly nervous hope underneath it. It makes her smile as much as it makes her sad for him, knowing he's so used to losing anything that makes him feel secure. But she's been determined since that first night that he's not going to lose this, and she knows Jack feels the same. "Not if you don't want me to," she says gently.

Daniel smiles. "Then, no. No nightmares for a while now." 

"Good," Jack says, warmly. "We'll all get a decent night's sleep tonight, then."

It's almost odd, how the clear intimation that they'll all be in the same bed in an hour or two doesn't even bother her. It doesn't even feel suggestive at all. She still doesn't really know what this connection is that's solidifying between them, but it's a revelation to feel how natural and easy it can be for something that started out so charged and intense. Daniel may have _needed_ this, will probably need it again and he'll get it from both of them without question, but that's not all it is, and not all for him.

It feels comfortable. She doesn't know why, or quite how – God knows, she's never done anything like this before – but it does. Jack's arm is warm and secure around her, Daniel's hair soft under her fingers; there's no pressure, just this closeness that's wholly different yet just the same as how they work as a team.

Teal'c will be here tomorrow, Janet and Cassie too, this little family they've put together under a mountain from across the galaxy. She won't dare to cuddle up to Jack, and Daniel will sit on the couch rather than the floor, but it's still more than enough to be able to share the day together however they can. And after that…

A week off, stretching out ahead of her, strange that she's not even restless at the thought. She wonders if the weather will hold, if they might want to drive up to Minnesota again and what might happen between them if they do. What the new year will bring for them, both at midnight and for the year ahead.

For the first time in forever it feels like she has a place that's right for her. It feels like she could get used to this.


	2. 1998

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _Show and Tell_.

It's snowing again outside the cabin when Christmas Eve dawns, thick enough that it's gathering in the corners of the window above her head when Sam opens her eyes. She drags the duvet up further around her shoulders and burrows back down, into the warmth left behind by a suspiciously missing body on either side of her own.

The bedroom door behind her must be ajar; she can hear something offensively festive playing over the radio, smell a fire in the hearth and the enticing scent of coffee wafting in from the kitchen… hear Jack's footsteps, bare feet shuffling until he comes close enough to climb back onto the bed behind her.

"I know you're awake," he murmurs, and she can hear his grin.

She laughs into the pillow, burrowing down further under the covers. "Mm. Are you sure? I'm not."

He chuckles. He's not trying to get back into her nest, but he's close enough that she can feel his weight on the mattress. "Got you a birthday present," he murmurs in her ear, hot and breathy in the moment before he nips at her earlobe with sharp teeth that make her twitch, a pulse of heat shooting down her spine.

Okay, he's right, she's definitely awake now. "Oh?"

"Mmhmm." She doesn't have to turn her head to know he's grinning. "Wanna see?"

"It's not my birthday yet," she hears herself say. She's not surprised it sounds a little rough, the way Jack's already nuzzling into her neck.

"Well, it's a big one, right? And I hear you've been a very good girl all year." He doesn't even miss a beat at her protest, expected or not – and _god_ but the way he says it, that low, sensual tone that always seems to seep right through her skin. _Good girl_ , something she would never have imagined she'd even tolerate without wanting to throw a punch, and yet when Jack says it like that all she hears is his pride in her. "I think you're allowed to have your present a little early," he adds, tugging the edge of the duvet a little way down to nibble her bare shoulder. "Of course, if you want, I can just go… put it away again, for a few more days…"

"Mm, no, don't do that." She rolls over and smiles at him, not-so-reluctantly peeling the covers back. The fire must have been burning for a while; it's actually not that much chillier outside the duvet than under it. Warmer, in fact, in certain ways.

She's not on her feet a second before Jack pulls her tightly up against him, into a kiss that's as sweetly playful as it is deep and dirty, so uniquely him. His hands frame her face, his tongue teasing hers, and she's practically melting with an entirely different kind of warmth by the time he's grinning down at her – that impish grin that says whatever it is he's got for her, he's pretty damned pleased with himself about it.

"Close your eyes," he says, and takes both of her hands. She smiles, and does.

Jack leads her steadily out of the bedroom; she listens to his footsteps, the bedroom door creaking open wider, the radio playing, the crackle of the fire. He's leading her in front of the hearth, she can feel the heat of it through the thin cotton of her pyjamas, and then past it which means past the tree and the couch; a left turn into the kitchen, cold tile and the stronger scent of coffee; the sound of another door and then an unfamiliar rug of soft thick fur that tickles the sides of her feet…

She knows they're in the back bedroom, a step or two inside, and that she's facing the window out onto the deck. She can hear Daniel breathing quietly somewhere in front of her. It's darker in here, the light softer on her closed eyelids. Jack moves behind her, switches his hands to her elbows and steps in close behind her back.

"You can look now," he murmurs, sultry in her ear. 

Sam opens her eyes.

Her breath catches before she's even taken it. She's been in this room more times than she can remember, but she wouldn't think it now: everything, from the rug to the bed to the dresser, all of it is new.

The rug looks as soft as it feels, a deep navy blue faux-fur that carpets most of the floor. The matching curtains are drawn and the warm light is from a tall, simple floor lamp in the corner of the room, another on the dresser. A dresser that's obviously hand-crafted, varnished a rich golden oak and wider than it is tall, three columns of deep drawers with a comically large gift tag clearly marked _Sam_ hanging from one wrought iron handle. The blanket chest at the end of the bed and the pair of nightstands are obviously crafted to match; another tag hangs from one nightstand, from the middle of three drawers, and she can't read the name but she's certain she knows what it says.

Just that seems like too much to take in, but the bed, the _bed_ is…

It's huge, a luxuriously deep mattress on an ornate wrought iron frame, freshly made up with dark blue sheets and a checked cover on the thick duvet. As if that isn't enough, it's finished with three sets of pillows, a cream cashmere throw that looks beautifully soft – and an all-but-naked archaeologist kneeling dead center in only a pair of black briefs and the collar she made for him. He's watching her with a soft smile, hands bound in his lap with bright blue tinsel and the last gift tag in the room tied to the padlock of his collar. 

She _laughs,_ so full of amazement and delight and disbelief that she can't do anything else. Daniel's smile widens into a grin to match the one she hears in Jack's voice.

"We were gonna get you your very own nuclear reactor, but they were fresh out at the store, so…"

She gives him a playful shove, still laughing. "How – when did you –"

"Now you know why we couldn't wait for your birthday." Daniel flashes that soft smile again, love shining out of his eyes. "Happy thirtieth, Sam."

There's a lump in her throat, a bone-deep warmth everywhere inside her. "My god, how much did this even _cost_?"

"Been meaning to freshen the place up for a while," Jack says, with a shrug, as if that's an answer. As if that's all this is. As if they haven't carved out a space in the world, however small and secret, that's real and permanent and entirely theirs.

As if this isn't a statement, and a promise, and a hope, all wrapped up in one.

Jack raises an eyebrow. "We did okay, then?"

She shakes her head at him, knowing he already knows the answer. "This is incredible. _Thank you_ ," she looks back at Daniel, "both of you, it's… god, it's just..." She can't find the words. "It's beautiful," she manages to say, around that hot lump in her throat. "I can't believe you did this."

"Well, we did." Jack's smile isn't teasing at all now; it's that quiet, intense side of him showing through. "You deserve it. All of it and more."

"I don't need anything more," she says, without thinking because it's true. However secret they always have to be, however complicated it all is, she just can't imagine her life as anything else any more. She can't imagine wanting anything different to this.

"Did leave one little thing for you to unwrap," Jack teases then, nodding toward Daniel, who gives him a mock-serious glare.

"Less of the _little_ , thank you," but he's already smiling again and Sam can hardly resist even if she wanted to. The tag dangling from his collar is bright red, printed with glittery green Christmas trees; Daniel lifts himself on his knees toward her when she touches it, flipping it over.

 _For S, happy birthday, love J & D_ is printed neatly on the other side in his own handwriting.

She looks back up to meet his eyes, tugs gently on the tag with a teasing lilt to her voice. "For me?"

Daniel doesn't even blink. "All for you," he says, honest and easy.

Sam has never really been one to keep mementos, but she unties the bright green string with careful fingers because she's never throwing this simple, garish piece of card away. She props it up against the lamp on the nightstand where it instantly starts to shed bright green glitter onto the new varnish.

It's left specks of glitter scattered across Daniel's skin, too, all the way down to the blue tinsel wrapped in a figure-8 around his wrists. The loops are loose enough for movement, but a thrill runs through her when it's clearly not a joke: Jack must have been the one to tie them, and he's secured them with a knot that's probably going to need cutting open to get Daniel free. She hooks her fingers over the knot and tugs him forward more intently, that hot pleasure blossoming inside her when he just moves where she wants him: at the edge of the bed, where the new mattress is firm under her knee as she leans in, sinks her other hand into his hair and tips his head up. If a naked, bound Daniel is part of her gift then she's going to make the most of it exactly how they intend her to.

"I love you," she murmurs, to both of them, and kisses him.

Daniel melts, his mouth opening for her tongue; he tastes of that coffee and something sugary-sweet, and the sound he makes is even sweeter when she tightens her grip in his hair. 

Jack's arms slide around her from behind, a hot breath in her ear. "I think," he murmurs, wickedly, "we should christen the new place properly, what do you think?"

She smiles her answer into Daniel's mouth and pushes him back onto the bed. 

  


* * *

  


This new bed – handmade by a local ironworker to Jack's exacting specifications, he explains with that wicked grin when Daniel's bound securely to the headboard, whimpering and moaning so beautifully under her – isn't just huge but _sinfully_ comfortable. By halfway through Christmas Day, they've brought the radio and oil heater in and relocated the gift pile from under the tree, and seem to have wordlessly agreed that this is where they're going to be until the world drags them back out into reality after New Year's. 

Given it means coffee in bed, more touching than they usually get in an entire week and very few clothes between them, Sam is beyond happy with this turn of events. If she had to rank her birthdays so far, this one would come out on top and it's still four days away.

They eat a lunch in bed, too, one that's more seasonal candy than actual food, and then she makes Jack lie on his side as she gently re-covers the swathe of half-healed skin across his shoulder in ointment. The burn from the Reetou attack is over a week old now and at least it doesn't look like it's going to scar, as long as he keeps being diligent about following Janet's instructions. Or letting one of them follow her instructions, at least.

She caps the tube and drops it back into the top drawer of the nightstand. Jack yawns and drags her back down to him, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. "Mmph... okay, I've been good long enough. We're opening presents now."

Daniel chuckles, tucks the slip of paper he's using to mark his place back into his book. There's a single piece of glitter still stuck to his shoulder; it sparkles in the light as he leans over to put it back on the nightstand and sits up. He hasn't taken his collar off since she walked into the room yesterday, and it gives her a little thrill of happiness every time she looks at him.

She pushes herself back up from Jack's chest. "Is that an order, sir?"

Jack growls playfully; " _Yes_ ," and pulls her back, presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to her neck with just a scrape of teeth. She shivers, biting back a moan. It's turned out that calling him _sir_ in bed really doesn't change anything when she says it on duty, and if Sam believed in new year's resolutions she'd be making one to say it a lot more freely when it makes him react like that.

Daniel smiles and slips off the bed to kneel on the rug, pulls the stack of presents over. 

"All together, or one at a time?"

Jack smirks. "Presents now, sex later, Daniel."

Daniel rolls his eyes and passes up the first parcel, no bigger than her palm and neatly wrapped in green striped paper. "Sam."

She grins, shaking it gently as she sits up and settles cross-legged to get started. "From Cass," she reads off the label, although the ultra-neatness of the wrapping already gives away Janet's involvement.

Daniel loads the rest of the pile into the middle of the bed while she's opening it: inside is a pair of delicate earrings, turquoise drops on sterling silver hooks. She slips them in and shivers all over again when Jack tucks her hair back with a finger so he can see.

"They're lovely," Daniel says, looking at her with a soft smile on his lips. "Jack," he says, and hands over the next gift.

It's from Cassie, too: a fishing journal, which makes them all laugh, especially when Jack suggests he could actually record their _fishing_ in it. Daniel opens a book of his own, a title that neither she or Jack understand, but so obviously makes him happy that she can't resist leaning over to taste that smile.

They go around like that for an hour or more opening presents from Janet, the General, Teal'c and finally each other, and sharing lazy kisses between each round.

"This one's for you," Daniel says, when they're at the last three, and hands a gift wrapped in plain silver paper over to Jack. There's a softness in his voice, that familiar submission tinged with something nervous and hopeful. "From me." 

She watches Jack give him a curious look, gentle but not teasing. The present is rectangular, about as long as Jack's forearm and fairly flat, has a small amount of weight to it as he turns it over in his hands.

Daniel sits back on his heels, a posture she doesn't miss and she's sure Jack doesn't either. "I'm not sure if this was the right way to do, well, this, but..." He makes a gesture that's even less coherent than the words. "If you don't want to... maybe it was a little selfish, so if you don't want it-"

"Daniel." 

There's relief in Daniel's eyes at that tone, as he takes a breath. "Yes, Jack."

"Let me open my present," Jack says, voice as curious and gentle as that look. 

"Yes, Jack."

Jack smiles at him, hooks a finger under the paper and tears it back.

It's real leather, she can smell the newness of it. The blade is as wide as Jack's hand and just plain black, stitched only around the thin edge so that both faces are completely smooth; the grip looks like it fits comfortably in Jack's hand, and heat surges through her when he slowly closes his fingers around it.

Daniel's intake of breath is unsteady, and so sharp she'd hear it at the other end of the cabin. 

Jack looks at him, still holding the paddle, and she can tell how hard Daniel's trying not to break but she doesn't blame him at all when it's not enough.

"It's really – I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

" _Daniel._ " There's no reprimand in Jack's voice, only reassurance. "Come here," he murmurs, and Sam's not even sure what that tone is. 

She watches Daniel's throat work as he swallows hard. Watches him crawl over, and he's hardly within reach when Jack cups his cheek in the hand not still holding the paddle, and stares into his eyes. 

"Are you sure?"

And Sam's still watching, so intent, so she sees it the moment Daniel understands: something relaxes inside him, clear as day, and the look in his eyes... "Yes," and it's the barest whisper not from fear but amazement. "Are you-"

"Whatever you want," Jack says, hoarsely. "Seriously, anything – whatever you want, either of you." He pulls Daniel in close and kisses him, so sweetly it makes her heart skip to see it. "You'll have to give me some time to practice first," he murmurs, and Daniel lets out a breath that's trying not to be a whimper and failing completely.

"Yes, Jack."

 _God,_ she wants to see that. She can't quite imagine it, but she wants to, and she's so proud of Daniel for asking when he obviously wants it too.

Suddenly Jack laughs, loud enough that it startles her and Daniel looks up again in confusion.

"What's so funny?"

Jack smirks, but at himself. "I had kinda the same idea. Well, not the same idea," he weighs the paddle in his hand and Daniel's cheeks flush pink, though his eyes are dazzlingly bright. "But, you know. With the giving." 

"Oh. _Oh,_ " and Daniel's eyes widen as he laughs, filled with delight. 

"Yeah." Jack looks at her, and she hardly needs the familiar arch of that eyebrow to know what he's asking. It's possible they're a little too telepathic, to have all come up with this same way to ask, and offer, without even needing words.

Jack smirks, heat and laughter dancing in his eyes. "Okay, I'm just gonna put this out there, that we never exchange gifts in company ever again."

"Oh god, _agreed_ ," Daniel says instantly, grinning at her. "Sam?"

She holds out the box she wrapped for him a few days ago in answer. "For you," she says, and shifts over to Jack's other side. Daniel settles more comfortably to get both his hands free, then gives her a curious, pleased little smile as he opens the paper at one end.

"Oh, just rip it, for crying out loud," Jack says. Daniel flicks him a playful look and deliberately, carefully peels the tape off one side.

Sam's pretty sure she's been a little more obvious in her gift – there's only so much that disguises something of a certain length and width, after all, but Daniel doesn't rush opening it even if he's figured it out. When he gets the paper off – in one untorn piece, just to tease Jack to frustration, she's sure – and gets to the clear plastic box, though, he does look up at her and give her look of amusement.

Jack shoots her a playful glare as Daniel opens one end of the box and tips out the black velvet bag inside. "Jeez, what is this, pass the parcel?" He raises an eyebrow at Daniel: more specifically, at the way Daniel's just weighing the bag in both hands, without making a move to untie it. "Heavy?"

That look is all heat now, laughter burned away, and fixed on her even on his soft, "Yeah." 

Daniel's very tactile, especially his hands: she's pretty sure he can feel certain things even through the velvet, the way he's exploring his way up to the drawn strings holding it closed. The flared base that fits perfectly into her harness, for example.

"Wow," Jack says, before Daniel's even finished opening the bag; and then, sounding impressed; "Holy _crap_."

She watches Daniel run those tactile fingers along the length – the _long,_ thick length – of metal in his hands, following the inside of the slight curve until he's just touching the wide head of it with light fingertips. He curls his hand around it and Jack makes a slightly strangled sound.

"That's… big," is what he goes for, in the end, while Daniel just looks at her like he's actually lost for words.

"Turn it on," she suggests, wickedly.

Jack chokes. "Oh, Jesus. Of _course_ it turns on."

She grins at him. "You didn't expect anything less from me, did you?"

Jack laughs, Daniel licks his lips, and neither of them jump him but she's pretty sure it's a close thing all round. Especially when he finds the switch under the base and flicks the vibrator on, and finally seems to find his voice again.

"I can just leave the two of you to do anything that involves standing up until we leave, right?"

Jack's grin is broad and wolfish. "If I get to spank you _and_ see Sam fuck you with that, you never have to get out of this bed again."

Daniel groans, rough and happy. "God, you're going to have to carry me to the truck."

"It's a fair trade off."

"Your knees won't take it," she teases.

"Ah, you're young and spry," Jack retorts, smirking. "And you're about to get a lot of exercise."

Daniel laughs and leans over him, reaching for her. "Thank you," he says, only half audible because he's already kissing her and keeps at it until they're both breathless. He pulls back only to rest his forehead against hers, those strong fingers warm on her cheek and his eyes dark; she can just see Jack's hand on the back of his neck, gentle and heavy. "You're too good to me, both of you."

"Nope, none of that," Jack murmurs, even as she puts a finger to his lips.

"We love you." She smiles and lets Jack tug him close, warmth blossoming through her at the way he just relaxes into it. She doesn't think she'll ever get enough of seeing them together, especially in moments like this when the absolute trust between them is so strong it's nearly visible.

"Last one's yours," Jack says, fingers idly toying with Daniel's hair, and nudges her to pick it up.

She's torn between excitement and reluctance - they've already given her more than she could want, surely there doesn't need to be anything else, but there it is. It's obviously from Jack: a little bigger than her hand, a square wrapped in the same red paper printed with glittery green trees that matches the tag still hanging from her dresser drawer. They're never going to get stray glitter out of these sheets, she thinks, and she couldn't care less. 

Under the paper is a plain white cardboard box, the lid fastened closed with a slip of tape. She peels that back with a fingernail and glances up at Jack, gives him a curious smile with her fingers poised to open it.

He hasn't moved and he looks as nervous as Daniel did, if not more; it's gorgeous and endearing in equal measure. She tries to imagine what on Earth he could want to give her, that he could be that on edge about –

"Oh," she breathes out.

"I didn't make it," Jack says, a little too quickly. "I figure you wouldn't've wanted my-"

She kisses him, hard, before he can even finish: feels his tension switch instantly to fierce pleasure and then his hands are on her face, he's grinning into her mouth, and she just lets herself go liquid against him. Her pulse is throbbing, loud and insistent, probably because every drop of blood she has feels like it's heading for the sudden aching heat between her thighs. 

It's almost impossibly hard to break her mouth from his, but she has to, to have the one thing she wants even more right now.

She holds the collar up for him, looks him right in the eyes, and doesn't even try to keep the pure desire out of her voice. "Please, sir?"

Daniel's so close, touches her gently and makes a _sound_ : her head is spinning too much to understand what it even is, except that it's beautiful and she knows it's good.

"Fuck," Jack breathes, like he wasn't the one to give her this. " _Sam._ " His fingers touch hers on the soft leather. "Don't, if you're not sure, it's okay if you-"

"Please, sir," and it just comes out soft and sensual and hopeful, not quite pleading but willing to, if that's what it takes. She doesn't care: she wants him to hear it. He needs to hear what he does to her, what he can do so easily, what it means to her that he'd want to give her this.

Sam knows her track record with relationships is… ropey, to say the least. Bad, even. Jonas was the crowning glory of bad decisions, but he's not the only one – she's always fallen into the same trap, looking for the right thing with the worst people because she didn't _understand_. She's found men who wanted to take control, strip her boundaries away, and mistaken that for fitting with her own desires, over and over again.

It's taken Jack and Daniel to learn that she's always had it entirely backwards. She doesn't need to have her control taken away – she needs to trust completely that she can give it up, that Jack will hold her safe when she has, and that he'll hand it back without question when she asks.

"Stay there," he murmurs, and she can barely breathe with anticipation as his fingers work the buckle open. His eyes meet hers, warm and amazed, a smile spreading across his lips. "Hold still," as if she could or would do anything else as he carefully fits the collar around her neck. 

She shivers when he starts to fasten it, her eyes falling closed for a moment; and then he's done and she's just feeling it, a subtle weight and pressure that's new and exciting and calming all at once. 

Jack rubs his thumbs gently behind her ears, brushes them down her neck, strokes over her shoulders and down to take her hands in his.

"Good girl," he whispers, and it makes her feel so powerful, so loved, to hear the admiration and pride in his voice. "God, look at you, Sam, you're incredible."

"It's beautiful on you, Sam." When she looks, Daniel's gazing at her with that same warm amazement in his eyes. "Matches your earrings," he says, with a sudden laugh, and she grins when she realises he's probably right. The collar Jack's chosen for her, the collar she's wearing for him, is comfortable leather not quite an inch wide and dyed to a deep, rich teal edged in black, with bright silver fastenings and a single silver O-ring sitting right over her throat. 

It's simple and beautiful, it means so much, and it feels _so right_ she almost wants to cry.

"Come here," Jack murmurs, a smile in his voice as if he knows, and Sam lets out a breath she's been holding her whole life and sinks into his arms.


	3. 1999

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere around _Maternal Instinct_ , but which probably doesn't happen in this universe.

"You're nervous," Jack says.

There was a time she might have tried to deny it, but there's really no point, and if there's anything this relationship has taught her it's that she can and should be honest with them. Instead, Sam just carries on folding the mountain of sheets and pillowcases without looking at him. "What gave it away?"

"Nice try, but I'm not giving up my advantage that easily." He pulls another clean sheet out of the laundry and joins her in folding; that does get her to look at him, unable to help a smile.

"Yeah, I'm nervous. I haven't spent Christmas with Mark since… well, since I left home, I guess."

"You know we can leave you guys to it." He adds his sheet to the pile, idly smoothing out the last creases with his palm. "Daniel and I talked already. We get it, if you want to just have some time with them."

She thinks about it again. She can't deny it's going to be strange, probably tense, and she's going to stay at least slightly nervous the whole time that something will give them away.

But they're professional secret-keepers, all of them. It's been over two years and the only person who knows they're anything but teammates is Teal'c, she trusts they can hide it for a few days from the brother who hardly knows her at all any more.

And as nervous as she'll be that he will notice, as much as they'll all have to pretend, she'd much rather that than not at all. She wants her family to know… well, her family. She wants to see Jack turn into a big kid with her niece and nephew, have Daniel smooth-talk Mark and Eleanor into loving him the way she knows he will. She wants to be able to sneak a friendly-seeming hug or a touch, or at least a look to reassure her when things get awkward, have someone to talk her down when she starts wondering why the hell she thought hosting her brother was such a good idea.

She just doesn't want to spend Christmas entirely apart from the men she loves.

"I want you here," she says, honestly. "As long as you both want to be."

Jack gives up on untangling another sheet from the dryer and tugs her in close. "I'm pretty sure I told you already: nowhere else I'd rather be. That goes for Daniel, too."

"I want you guys to meet them. I want them to get to know you, even if it's not as…" She's never sure what to really call them, which should feel stranger than it is, except she never has to. Who would she be telling, after all? "Is that going to be too weird?"

Jack kisses her lightly, his hands roaming idly up and down her back. "Weird, sure. But you know we both want that, too." 

"Are you sure?" She feels a tinge of trepidation even putting the words out there. "With the kids… I don't want it to be hard for you." 

He knows what she means, of course he does. "Charlie would have been about David's age, now," he says, quietly. 

"Yeah." She wraps her arms around him. "It's Christmas, Jack. I know it's tough. You don't have to."

"Hey, we've had a couple of good ones, haven't we?"

She blushes, a half dozen vivid memories coming to mind that blow _good_ out of the water. "We have."

"We can make this a good one, too." There's trepidation in his eyes, too, but he's smiling with no small amount of hope and she can tell he means it. "Right?"

She smiles back. "Right."

  


* * *

  


Sam offered to pick Mark and his family up from the airport when they were first making plans, but in the end they've flown into Denver to visit overnight with some old friends of Mark's, so it's a huge estate rental that pulls into her driveway late morning on Christmas Eve.

She's glad before they're even halfway done unloading. She's never realised how much _stuff_ kids come with at Christmas. Thank god Jack's already dived straight into helping, after some brief introductions that she thinks were casual enough to play into the _we're work friends who hang out together_ story.

"We're going to need a bigger tree," Daniel murmurs playfully, lining up mugs for the coffee she's brewing. 

She follows his gaze, and he's right – it's possible Mark's wrapped their entire house and brought it with them. She doesn't want to even think about how they shipped all that on the plane.

A thought hits her. She keeps watching, keeps her voice low. "I did put ours in the bedroom, right?"

"You did." Daniel adds sugar to his mug and sticks a candy cane stirrer in it for good measure. "Last night. The ones from Teal'c, too. And I checked the locks when I did a sweep earlier."

She forces her shoulders to relax, grabbing a candy cane from the box in his hands for her own mug. "Thank you."

"We're good at this," he reminds her, in the same easy low voice that won't carry, lips curved in a smile yet barely moving. "It'll be fine. How does Mark take his coffee?"

"I have no idea," she admits, makes a face when she realises it's true. The sound of the door finally closing echoes from down the hall.

Daniel makes a pretence of putting the sugar bowl back and leans his shoulder against hers. "It'll be fine."

She flashes him a quick, brave smile. "Mark! Coffee?"

  


* * *

  


It turns out, having two kids around is _exhausting_.

Jack catches her look as Lisa barrels past again, squealing with excitement – or possibly terror, it's hard to tell, but Ellie doesn't seem worried so Sam assumes she doesn't need to be. "Rethinking that maternity leave, Carter?"

She restrains the playful shove she wants to give him and just rolls her eyes. It's probably not the best idea to provoke him while he's basting the turkey, anyway, especially since she has a sneaking suspicion where the job would end up.

Mark looks up sharply from slicing the half ton of vegetables that Sam's pretty sure is overkill for six people, even if two of them are Christmas-fuelled pre-teens. Surely she didn't buy that many at the store. "Maternity?"

"He's _joking,_ " she says, quickly, cuts her gaze to Jack a little more sharply. __

 __Mark clears his throat. "Right. Of course."

The look Jack offers her is so quick Mark likely misses it entirely. It says _ouch_ and _awkward_ and it's definitely an apology. 

"So," Mark carries on and _oh, hell,_ it's all kinds of awkward, but hardly just from Jack's sense of humor. "The two of you… work with Sam?"

"Yep." Jack gives her another quick glance, and she swaps her hands in to hold up the basting bag while he grabs the ties. __

__Mark lines up another half dozen carrots and expertly decapitates them with one stroke. Sam can't help but notice he's much more adept at the whole dinner-preparation process than she remembers, and definitely more than she is. She can knife a Jaffa from twenty paces, but an army of root vegetables are a different enemy altogether. "Neither of you have family of your own to visit for the holidays?"

" _Mark!_ "

"Hey, it's okay," Jack starts.

" _No,_ it's not." God, she can't believe Mark just said that –

Jack pins her with a look, his voice just a little firmer and full of meaning. "Yeah, it is." _We knew it'd be awkward. Let that one go._

At least Mark has the decency to look apologetic. "Sorry, I didn't mean..." 

Jack shrugs. "We're both only kids, no surviving parents. Nothing much else to do but hang out with Cary Grant and turkey sandwiches, and it's always nicer to do that in company."

"No wives, girlfriends, kids?"

 _Oh god._ It's like getting stabbed in the gut and Charlie wasn't even hers. Sam clenches her fist below the counter and doesn't look at Jack, half afraid of what she'll see and even more terrified of what she'll give away. 

But Jack, somehow, just smiles politely and taps the roll of saran wrap he's holding against his chest. "Divorced," he says. "Back in ninety-six. Daniel…"

"I lost my wife a few years ago," Daniel says from across the kitchen, just as polite and mild as Jack. Sam wants to hold them both so badly it hurts.

Mark winces, looking stricken. "Oh god, I'm sorry. I really didn't-"

"You didn't know." Daniel smiles that warm, reassuring, gentle smile he has, and Sam feels herself just fall for him all over again.

"We're a really close team," she says. Even if she could tell him everything… even if she could tell him _anything,_ she's never going to be able to explain what that means to Mark. The most she can try do is try and give him enough to understand. "We've spent most of the holidays together the last few years, it's kind of a tradition now." She doesn't mention how much of that tradition involves one or more of them naked, kneeling and tied up with tinsel, but it's actually refreshing to have something she just _wouldn't_ ever tell her brother instead of just state secrets and cover stories. 

"Well, I'm glad we got to join you," Mark says, and he seems to be sincere enough that she can let herself believe it.

"Yeah, me too."

  


* * *

  


"He really is glad we came, you know."

Sam turns at Ellie's voice, and it isn't as awkward or difficult to smile at her. Ellie's always been the one to keep Sam in the family loop, even when Mark was at his most stubborn. She's never once forgotten to send a birthday or holiday card, always calls Sam on the kids' birthdays so she can let them know their Auntie Sam is thinking of them even if she isn't there to hug them in person. Ellie's the one who brings the kids to Denver each year to visit with her folks and always invites Sam up to see them, even though Mark never comes along. She's the reason Sam feels like an aunt at all.

"I know." She looks back out through the open door at her back yard, where Mark and Lisa are playing in the modest amount of snow that's refused to melt from her lawn. Lisa's bundled up in bright red boots and a thick onesie, all under a coat so well padded she's as round as the snowman they're building; her giggles and squeals carry all the way to the house on the chilly air, and Sam's a little surprised at the spread of warmth through her chest that isn't from the spiced tea in her mug. It's one thing to know through photos and phone calls that Mark is a great father, but now she's seeing it with her own eyes. It's the first time it's really come home to her how much she's lost out on, not seeing him. They were never the closest of siblings, but he's her brother. She's missed him. "I really am, too." 

Ellie sips her own tea and leans against the other side of the door frame. "I'm sorry your dad couldn't be here. The kids would have loved to see him."

It doesn't sound like she's fishing, at least. Sam goes with the simple approach, the truth without any specifics. "Yeah, he wanted to come, too, but you know…"

"The Air Force stops for no one, not even Santa." At least the way Ellie says it is light, without the anger Mark would wear.

"I'm sure he'll visit soon," she says, and she even thinks it's true. 

"That'd be nice." Ellie takes another long sip of tea, keeping the mug to her lips and cradling her hands around it against a sudden breeze. "Your friends seem like great guys," she says, after a long few moments. "I'm glad you have people here who care about you."

Sam doesn't quite keep her pulse even, but she's confident enough that Ellie won't notice. She thinks that has to be at least bait dangled in the water – and then she sees what Ellie's spotted, on the other side of the yard, and her heart just about fills her throat.

David is wrapped up just as snug as his sister, right down to the thick woollen gloves already covered in snow. Beside him Jack's on one knee and grinning, boyish and carefree and gorgeous, bare hands tinged pink with cold as he puts them over David's and presses down hard.

That first snowball is small but perfectly aerodynamic: with Jack's guidance and David's enthusiasm, it hits Mark square on the back of the head. Sam has a split second to worry before David crows with such triumph that Ellie laughs; Mark turns around with a look of mock betrayal; and in thirty seconds there's all-out winter warfare across her back yard.

"Mark's going to get crushed, isn't he?"

Sam grins at Ellie's tone. "Yeah." Her brother may not know it, but there's no way he wins against Jack. She doesn't think it really matters. 

  


* * *

  


The clock says it's 4:36am when Daniel sneaks into her bedroom and wakes her with a sweet, soft kiss on the lips. She blinks her eyes open and it's still dark; she can only see him in the slices of streetlight stealing between the blinds. He's kneeling beside the bed, leaning on the mattress with both forearms, smiling at her.

"Merry Christmas," he whispers, and Sam smiles back as she stretches an arm out from under the blankets.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers back, running her fingers through his hair. "You okay?"

"Mmm." He tilts his head into her hand, his smile widening. "I'm good. We just thought we'd get in before the rush."

She props herself on one elbow. "'We', huh?"

"Jack sent a kiss, too," he says, a sparkle in his eyes, and leans up to press his mouth back to hers. This time she's awake enough to pull him in, pressing her fingers into his scalp and parting his lips with her tongue to taste him... and Jack, very definitely Jack, and not just his mouth. 

She smirks, leans back just far enough to tap a finger to his lips. "Ah, I get it, he sent you to do his dirty work…"

Daniel chuckles. "Too risky for a two-man team, so we flipped for it."

She giggles under her breath, shuffling over to curl up right on the edge of the bed and tangle her fingers with his. It feels illicit and ridiculously romantic, like the one time she snuck her first real boyfriend in through the window after curfew, even though they didn't get up to anything beyond a little too much kissing and cuddling under her NASA logo duvet.

"I missed you last night." She's actually surprised she slept at all, after a day of not being able to touch and then knowing they were both so close – a torture not nearly as sweet as she might have imagined, when it's not really a choice. 

Daniel touches her bare shoulder, his fingertips grazing so lightly over her skin they leave a wave of heat behind. "Yeah," he murmurs, with that smile that tastes of Jack. 

God, she'd love to sneak him under these blankets with her right now, even though she knows she can't; for Jack to have crept up from the basement with him and cuddle up with them both, even though she knows it's too big a risk. But one day... 

At Christmas she gets to hope and dream, and more and more that's where her dreams go: a future where somehow they don't have to hide this thing that's so good for all three of them, where she can wake up with both of them every single morning. Where they're not just snatching nights together and brief daylight moments of intimacy, behind the backs of her family and their friends and the entire SGC.

"I love you," she whispers, and even that feels daring with her brother asleep across the hall. Wistfully she imagines Jack might hear her too – god knows, he must be imagining them right now, it wouldn't be the strangest thing in the world to find out he can.

"Love you too," Daniel whispers back, and for now even these little moments are so very worth it.


	4. 2000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _Entity_. 
> 
> This is an explicit chapter, FYI for those who aren't after sexytiems.

Mark calls the second weekend of December to invite her up to San Diego for the holidays in return for last year. Sam smoothly tells the agreed lie: that she caught a nasty bug at work last week and she's not allowed to fly, but she'll call the kids on Christmas Day and maybe she can visit for Lisa's birthday near Easter instead?

She can tell he's disappointed, but the fact that she still sounds like she was poured back into her body backwards through a coffee grinder probably sells it. He gets both kids on the line in turn to say hi, and she really does feel a little less broken at David's earnest, innocent _feel better soon, Auntie Sam_ and Lisa's promise to send a hundred kisses in the best get well card _ever_.

Thankfully by the time Christmas rolls around she's feeling herself again, at least for the most part. The best get well card ever stays on her mantle, though, handmade and twice the size of the festive cards all around it. 

She does have to admit, as much as she misses her niece and nephew, when Christmas Eve becomes Christmas Day and she's snuggled into her own bed with Jack spooned up behind her and Daniel snoring quietly on the other pillow, she wouldn't change it for the world. 

"Hey," Jack murmurs, a sleepy smile in his voice. She smiles back, realising she must have zoned out a little; she hasn't even realised he's awake.

"Hey." She curls her hand around his elbow, a wordless request because she doesn't need to say it. Jack responds by burying his face in her neck and readjusting until he's got her held tight against him again, just the same way she drifted calmly off to sleep last night. The nightmares – her own voice screaming into an endless, deaf void, over and over again – have mostly faded, but the intense skin hunger isn't giving in as easily, and the deliberate pressure in his embrace is warm, comforting. 

"Sleep okay?" It's mumbled into her neck, mostly hope but a touch of worry. Of course Jack knows, would know how she's been feeling even if she hadn't sobbed it all out that first night out of the infirmary. Neither he or Daniel are exactly unscathed by the experience, either; Jack especially, this time, and she knows Daniel's been taking extra care of him while she's been recovering. It's the kind of fallout that makes her honestly wonder how any of them are supposed to cope without having this.

"Mm-hmm." She squeezes his arm, turns her head just far enough to kiss his temple. "I love you, you know."

"Really?"

She laughs at his innocent tone, smothers it quickly in the pillow before she wakes Daniel. "Mm-hmm."

"Wow." His thumb strokes the soft skin just under her breast, a kiss brushed behind her ear. "How'd I get that lucky?"

She's wrapped up entirely in Jack, watching Daniel sleep peacefully inches away. "I wonder that sometimes, too."

"Guess we musta done something right, somewhere." He nibbles at the shell of her ear with gentle teeth, all playfulness and pleasure. "So, what d'you want for Christmas?"

Sam doesn't even need to think about it – she rolls over and pushes him onto his back, lets her weight on his hips and chest pin him down. "You inside me," she says, smiling down at him, and Jack grins.

"I can work with that." He reaches over with the arm she's just released, and Daniel hums sleepily at even the first stroke of fingers.

"Mmm, 's it morning?"

"Yep." Jack grins at him, still stroking. "C'mere."

Daniel huffs a still-sleepy laugh and shuffles over the bare foot between them. "Mmmm… why do I get the feeling I'm not going back to sleep any time soon?"

Jack gives him a playful eyebrow. "Well, if you'd _rather_ sleep…"

Daniel smiles and nuzzles at his shoulder, a warm hand finding the dip of her spine and stroking down. He's been extra tactile with her since her little adventure inside the computer, too, and she appreciates it just as much. "No, you know, I think I'm good."

"Thought so." Jack curls his hand up, palm to the back of Daniel's head and fingers sliding up into his hair, against the grain and just rough enough that Daniel's eyes flutter closed again in a way that's definitely not sleepy at all.

"Jack…"

"What do you want, Daniel?" It's the same pleased, playful tone that made her answer without thinking, and Daniel's no different.

"Your cock in my mouth," and Sam would swear it's as if the words don't even pass through his conscious brain. " _Mmm_ ," as Jack grips his hair sharp and tight, an obvious reward. "Please, I want to suck you if you're gonna do that."

It's the soft way he says _please_ , one of those tiny, subtle tells between them: an ask and offer in a single change of tone, and that's all they need.

"Sam wants me inside her," Jack murmurs, pure heat in the way he glances at her. "I think we can manage both, don't you? Think you can be a good boy and get my cock ready for her?"

Daniel hums, clearly more than happy with that idea. " _God_ , yes, sir."

Jack flashes her a bright, happy grin of his own. "Just your mouth," he says, and Daniel's eyes sparkle in easy agreement. Sam smiles and pulls him into a kiss, nibbles at the soft swell of his lower lip and licks into his mouth until he breathes a long, soft moan. It's so perfect, _he's_ perfect, the way he's just so relaxed and willing like this, the way he leans into her and lets her manhandle him until she's got him where Jack wants him.

"Merry Christmas," she murmurs playfully, turns him to kneel between Jack's spread thighs and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

"Hands behind your back." Jack hasn't even finished saying it before Daniel's folding both forearms behind his back and sinking down, mouth already open and seeking, tongue stretching eagerly to take the weight of the Jack's balls.

Jack groans at that first touch, a hand instantly back in Daniel's hair. "Ah, yeah…"

Sam just leans back on her hands and watches, because she'd happily watch this every single day of her life and it wouldn't be enough. Daniel opens wide enough to draw both of Jack's balls into his mouth at once, and Jack's fingers clench in his hair; she can't see what Daniel's doing with his tongue but she's been on the receiving end of that mouth enough to know it's something good. Beyond good and into amazing, from the sound Jack starts making and the way his cock starts to swell against Daniel's cheek.

"Good boy," he gasps, bright and full of pleasure. "Ah, fuck, your _mouth_ , Daniel…"

She can't resist any more, and she doesn't even have to. Daniel moans happily the moment she touches him, does whatever that is that's making Jack reward him so instantly again and whimpers as her hand strokes down to press against the back of his neck.

" _Sam…_ " Jack's balls slip out of his mouth with a wet _pop_ , but only so that he can start on the main event instead, and he seems like he plans to lick every single inch. "Mmm, please, Sam…"

 _God,_ the way he sounds, moaning her name against Jack's cock. She rubs her thumb against the side of his neck. "What do you want, sweetheart?"

"Mmm, want to make it good for you." Jack's fingers twist, his other hand joining the party, and Daniel gasps. " _Oh_ – want to watch you, I love watching you, please," and then he's taking the head of Jack's cock into his mouth and sucking hard enough that Jack growls from the back of his throat.

" _Yeah,_ god, like that." Jack's gaze catches on hers, his eyes dark and full of pure, vivid desire. "He's so good, I'm gonna be so fucking hard for you, Sam…"

Daniel whines, sinking so far down his nose buries into the wiry hair at the base of Jack's cock. She feels the deep, long breath he drags in, as if he's trying to fill his lungs with Jack as much as his mouth. His own fingers are clenched tight, low around his own biceps but still obediently held behind his back even with Jack gripping his hair and filling his mouth.

"You're such a good boy," she murmurs, smiles when he tries to reply with a wet moan and sucks harder. "So beautiful like this. I love watching you, too." She can't wrap a hand entirely around his crossed arms, but even spreading her fingers across them is enough to make him shudder and it's beauty of an entirely different kind, feeling his reaction to just that touch. 

She wishes she didn't have to choose, could just touch them both _everywhere_. She leaves that hand pressing his arms against his back and snugs her hips tight up against his ass, to reach around with the other hand…

"Jack," she says, catches his eyes again with the most wicked smile she has: he's breathing hard and slow, obviously holding himself as in check as he can to just let Daniel go to town. Daniel whimpers desperately the moment her hand closes around him, and Jack grins at her over his head. She bounces it right back at him, gives Daniel a long, slow stroke to match his breath in.

"Is Jack as hard as you are, sweetheart?" He moans a sound that's probably a _yes_ even as Jack breathes out, and she strokes back down. "I want him inside me, remember, don't make him come yet."

"Not gonna come," Jack promises, though he has to gasp it and Sam has to laugh.

"Are you sure?"

Jack barks out a laugh of his own. "No," he admits, panting and grinning, hips canting up even as he tugs hard on Daniel's hair. 

Daniel just hums with obvious pleasure without moving, and Sam laughs again at Jack's helpless groan in reply.

" _Sam,_ " he growls out, and she won't lie, she nearly changes her mind just to see how long it won't take, if Daniel just keeps ignoring him – but only nearly.

Instead she leans down, lets Daniel's back take her weight; he's warm and solid under her, his skin soft against her breasts as she presses down, stroking her hand up his chest.

"Good boy," she murmurs in his ear, feels him shiver happily underneath her. "You're going to stop now, and you're going to watch Jack fuck me," and that does make him lift his head and drag in a rough breath in harmony with Jack's final bitten-off moan.

" _Mmm,_ yes, please," and Jack chuckles warmly if unsteadily above them both. He cups his palm to Daniel's jaw rather than let him go entirely, thumb grazing those swollen-red lips.

"Come up here," he says, and Daniel doesn't need to be told twice in that voice. He moves the moment she lets him go and _yes_ he's definitely just as hard as Jack right now, cock thick and bobbing between his thighs as he moves, gorgeous and mouth-watering. 

"Hands back," Jack orders, gently but absolutely an order, and Daniel turns and crosses his wrists together without hesitating. Jack produces a length of bright blue tinsel from under the pillow and Sam laughs at the sight and the memory.

Daniel can't see it, but she can tell when he realises – almost immediately it touches his skin, when he laughs too and looks at her over his shoulder with that happy smile. She watches Jack wind the tinsel around his wrists; a figure-eight once, twice, three times and then a firm knot that he tugs tight.

"Turn around now," she says, when he's done, and Daniel obeys her just as unerringly as he does Jack. "You really are beautiful, you know," she murmurs, because _god,_ he is – he always has been, but the years of being on SG-1 just keep on being good to him. There's more definition to his body, more strength visible in how he moves, more confidence and calm in the way he holds himself even like this – even when his gaze drops for just a moment, just so that he can look back up at her through those long, soft lashes with that same smile. 

"Thank you, Sam." 

That he just accepts it – believes it, finally – says worlds. She isn't sure how much of that confidence comes from the work, from belonging at the SGC, and how much he gets from what they've built between the three of them, but she hopes. She really hopes.

"He's not the only one." Jack catches her hand and her attention, his eyes sparkling as he looks at her. "Come here, both of you."

Daniel shuffles closer – he's even almost graceful at it, after this long – until his knees are pressed to Jack's side. Not to be outdone, Sam crawls up over him and sits back on his thighs, just far enough from where she really wants to be that she can feel the needy ache in her sex already. 

"You know," Jack says, oh-so-conversationally, "no one's asked me what _I_ want, yet."

She can't resist – he's so gorgeous spread out under her like this, entirely relaxed but for the hot, full length of his cock still wet from Daniel's mouth and actually twitching against his belly… and then in her hand, a rough little growl rewarding the strength of her grip. 

" _Sam._ "

She flutters her eyelashes, asks it playfully and just submissive enough to make him look at her like _that_. "What do you want for Christmas, sir?"

Jack's grin is all teeth. "I thought you'd never ask," he says, already reaching back under the pillow.

Sam isn't sure what she's expecting, but a handful of more tinsel is not exactly it. Jack, though, has that look that means he might want to play, but he's not playing around; he's got a plan of some kind, and it's just _tinsel_ yet the immediate unknown of it is enough of a turn-on to make her hips shift restlessly, that ache inside her seeking some kind of friction.

Of course there isn't any, yet, and of course Jack's watching with those sparkling eyes. "Oh, you like?"

There's only so much he can do with strings of tinsel – all blue and silver and gold, of course – but Sam's sure she can't think of them all. She'd still say _yes_ to any of it. "Yes, sir."

"Gimme your hands," he says, and she holds her wrists out as easily as Daniel did. Daniel who's still watching, too, and makes a pleased noise as Jack ties her hands in front of her with a length of gold tinsel. It's softer on her skin than she expects, but he ties it tight enough that there's a pressure there and she doesn't even try to swallow back the moan that claws up her throat.

"You do like that," Daniel murmurs, sultry and smiling. Jack's grin actually gets wider.

"Thought you might." 

_God_ , even flat on his back he's so good at this, so confident and calmly in charge for them, and more than anything so _attentive_ it suddenly shakes her to the core. She can imagine someone who doesn't know her as well as Jack might think this is the wrong thing to try, knowing she's still not quite over the worst kind of confinement any of them can imagine – but he does know her, he's with her, he's got her. She has no doubt he could get them both free in seconds, and will if she asks; and so the pressure around her wrists just feels grounding, a reminder from Jack that her body is still there and she's the one controlling it, feeling it.

"Give me a color," he says gently, and Sam feels a laugh bubble out of her.

"What's better than green?"

Jack chuckles, gives her wrists a light tug. "Gold?"

She brushes her fingertips against his skin. "Definitely gold, then."

His smile is warm and pleased. "Good. One more, Daniel." He spins out another length of blue from the sparkly tangle with one hand, gives Daniel's cock a long, firm stroke with the other.

"Oh," Daniel breathes out, as if he can't decide whether to be delighted or reluctant. "Jack…"

"You're gonna watch." Jack's eyes sparkle with pleasure. "And you're not gonna come until I say so. If I say so. Clear?"

There's such _love_ in Daniel's eyes, in the way he breathes out that quiet, "Yes, sir." He twitches as Jack drags the tinsel down the length of him, swallows a noise and licks his lips. "That tickles," he mutters, and Jack grins.

"Good," he says, and makes a quick loop around the base of Daniel's cock, a second behind his balls before he can even gasp, and _slowly_ pulls it tight…

"Oh, _god._ " Daniel sucks in a sharp breath this time, as if Jack's pulling his whole body tight, tighter and tighter until he's vibrating like a taut string. "Oh god, that's – please, Jack-"

"Quiet," Jack says, gently. "Relax," and Daniel does both, though his breathing stays a little more ragged than before. Jack smiles, soft and proud. "Good boy," he murmurs, and makes the same two loops over again twice more, stroking the other palm over Daniel's side to soothe him. She watches him only tie it with a quick overhand half-knot, with two fingers, but Daniel gasps at even that. "There we go. Color?" 

" _Oh…_ " Daniel actually arches his hips up, whines helplessly when there's nothing and sags back down onto his heels, gasping. "Oh god, green. Oh, _fuck…_ "

"Shh, I got you." Jack doesn't stop stroking him, slow and simple, just that one hand running up his ribs and back down as he turns that bright, playful grin on her. "Merry Christmas," he says, wriggles his eyebrows at her and reaches out with his free hand again, and Daniel's not the only one who doesn't need to be told twice.

He pulls her forward by her wrists, and then his cock is hot and full _right_ _there_ and she's sinking down onto him with a liquid moan. She tries, tries hard to take it slow but it's so good, so _fucking_ good and she's so wet and ready – there's no better foreplay in the galaxy than watching her two gorgeous guys together, nothing that can possibly turn her on more than the precious way Jack treats them both or the way Daniel sounds just for him, for _her_ – 

"Oh, _god,_ Jack…" He's just holding still under her, that slow caress of Daniel's skin the only movement, his other hand still holding onto her bound wrists. "Oh, please…" She doesn't know what she's even asking for, It just feels – she just _needs_ …

"God, you feel good." His fingers twist just a little, almost as if they're in Daniel's hair, and the pressure around her wrists tightens. "So good, Sam, come on, right down," and she can't even think about disobeying something that's going to feel so good, something she wants so badly. She's almost there, he's so deep inside her –

And then Jack tilts his hips just enough, and she feels him slip something underneath but she's too focused on that last half inch of his cock sliding home. She moans again, louder, arching her back to push down harder and feelhim there. She just wants to _feel him_. It's always so _right_ , like he belongs right here inside her exactly like this.

"That's it," Jack murmurs, hot and rough. "There you go, that's it, don't move now."

The breath shudders out of her at that. "Oh god, please, Jack…"

"Don't move," he repeats - twists his fingers a little more, and that tight pressure gripping her wrists becomes a bite sharp enough to make her want to squirm on top of him. "You feel so good, just stay like that, right there, I know that's what you want."

She drags in another breath and lets it out. He's right, she just wants to stay like this forever. "Yes, sir." 

Jack smiles, rubs his thumb over the inside of her wrist. "Good girl, you can do it," and it takes her a second to realise what he means, but only a second – before he tugs her hands down and without letting go, presses his fingers between her wet folds and right to her clit. 

She gasps and trembles and Daniel hums with pleasure. "You're beautiful, Sam," he says, and she can hear the strain of need in his voice. "My god, you're so beautiful when Jack touches you like that."

Jack's fingers are already moving, tight little circles right on top of her clit, and each one seems to make her moan louder. She _can't_ move even if she wanted to: he's still got her hands in that biting grip and there's no way her legs will cooperate when he's doing this, so all she can do is stay there, impaled on Jack's cock while he doesn't even _try_ to thrust, just rubs her clit hard and fast and exactly right.

"Please," she hears, realises it's her own voice. "Please, sir, _please_ -"

"You're going to come for me," Jack says, and she nods desperately, shaking. Of course she's going to come, he wants her to come, he's practically dragging her to the edge by her aching wrists and she's not going to be able to stop it, not even if he tells her to.

"Yes sir, oh god, _oh_ oh god, oh, _please…_ "

Daniel whines softly at the sound of her. " _Sam…_ "

She can't not look at him, when he sounds like that, when Jack's got him as surely as he has her. _Fuck_ , he's gorgeous, so obviously desperate: all naked sweat-slicked skin and taut muscle under Jack's other hand, still resting on his hip; pupils so wide he looks drunk on the sight of her, his cock so red and swollen and actually dripping he's so close… 

"You can come when Sam does," Jack says, rubs his thumb into the hollow of Daniel's hip, and Daniel's whole body seems to waver right on that edge with her.

"Yes, sir – thank you, oh god, _Sam_ , you're so – I love you, please, I need to come, _please…_ "

"And then you can both suck me off," Jack adds, and Daniel _mewls_ , wide eyes locking onto hers like a laser sight. 

She can see the image in his head as sure as if it were on a screen in front of her. _Jack's cock, almost over-sensitive from them both – tasting of her, of being inside her – his balls in her mouth as Daniel swallows him down –_

 __" _Damn_ ," Jack growls out. "How the _fuck_ are you both this hot? Come on, Sam, come for me, come for Daniel – keep looking at him just like that, let us see it," and Sam gasps, sobs, clings to Daniel's gaze as pure pleasure spikes through her in that hot, bright rush out from Jack's fingers. She can't stay still, not like this - even with Jack's grip on her wrists she's shaking, writhing on his cock, heat pulsing through her until she's spent and trembling just to hold herself up. Her fingers scrabble at his hand and she's panting softly, moans all over again with relief when he actually, finally stops.

"Oh, _Sam_ ," Daniel breathes, so utterly full of love and desire that just the sound of it sends another tremor right through her. And then "oh _fuck_ , oh god, Sam – _Sam,_ " as Jack slips the knot tied around his cock and he just _comes_ – not even another touch, just a jerk of his hips and a sharp cry and his too-swollen cock pulsing thick stripes across Jack's belly and chest.

Sam doesn't even think, just trusts Jack will catch her and topples down to get her mouth on him, to lick it up in long lavish strokes. His chest hair is fuzzy and rough under her tongue and the taste is all salt, his sweat and Daniel's come mixing together; Daniel whimpers and Jack groans, something incoherent and amazed, his fingers tangling into her hair and gently guiding her as she eagerly laps him clean.

She _loves_ this – that saltiness itself is okay, at best good and at worst take-it-or-leave-it, and yet she can still crave it like the best wine and candy in the world. It's not how it tastes, it's that it's them – another sense suffused with the two of them, wrapping her up in this incredible thing they have together. And beyond that - it's wanton and slutty and she's not supposed to want it, let alone actually do it, and with them none of that matters in the slightest. It's the way they both react just like this, like she's the most amazing woman in the world just for being honest. 

And now her mouth is on Jack's skin already, so it's just efficiency to slide down, let him slip out of her with a moan and kiss her way down his chest, dip her tongue into his navel, nip and nibble and bite all the way to his cock…

The scent of her own wetness mingles with the taste of them both in the back of her mouth, and then Daniel's bright blue eyes are right there and he's grinning at her with pure, unadulterated joy. Her wrists are just nicely sore against the tinsel now Jack's let go; she can tell Daniel's are still bound behind his back. That's okay - they're a good enough team even without hands, especially for this.

"Merry Christmas to us," he whispers, with that gorgeous wanton smile of his own, and then he's taking Jack's cock in his mouth and there's nothing on Earth or any other world that could stop her joining in.


	5. 2001

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- an AU of _Meridian_ where Daniel survives (and not just as a swirly energy being).
> 
> Mild trigger warning for vomit in the first scene.

Daniel wakes her a few hours before dawn on Christmas Day. He's nauseous and shaking, whispering apologies they've both told him they don't need as she helps him out of bed and into the bathroom. Sam just has time to push the door closed and pull a towel off the rack to cushion the floor before he's half on his knees and puking into the toilet bowl, gripping the seat with both hands like it's a rare stable point in the world.

She grabs and fills the glass that's now living beside the sink for exactly this; he's sick again before she even has the tap running warm enough to wet a cloth, and a third time before she can reach to flush the toilet. After that there's obviously nothing left to come up, but that doesn't stop his stomach from trying – she's not sure if he's retching or just sobbing or both, only that it sounds like pain and she'd do anything to take it away. 

There's a clean bathrobe hanging behind the door. She drapes it around his shoulders, loose enough that he can shrug it off if it's too much, but it'll keep him warm and the weight seems to ground him a little. Two wet cloths in hand for good measure, she settles beside him and puts her hand gently over his death grip on the toilet seat.

"I'm here," she whispers, rubs her thumb across the back of his. "Shh, I'm here. Try and breathe."

Daniel nods, shakily. Sam just leans as close as she can and strokes his hair, gentle and soothing, murmuring those same things that don't feel like enough but are all she has. "Shh, just breathe. Shh, shh, I'm here." A warm washcloth across the back of his neck, a gentle squeeze of his hand when another wave of nausea hits. He manages not to retch again, just sobs and leans into her, or at least as much as he can without the risk of being out of range of the toilet.

"Shhhh." She wraps her arm around him. "Shh, it's okay, keep your head down," as she wipes his tears, dabs the other cloth over his lips. "Want some water?"

There's a moment of uncertainty before he nods. She holds the glass for him until he can take enough of a mouthful to rinse and spit it out, and that's what seems to finally cut the tension out of him, his whole body going limp and heavy against her.

"Sorry," he mutters, again. Sam just braces herself better for his weight and sighs affectionately, stroking his hair.

"You know it's okay, sweetheart." They're lucky Janet let him out of the infirmary permanently in time for the holidays; this isn't their first early morning and it won't be the last, but it's better than his emptying his stomach in bed or sitting here miserable and in pain and alone.

"You can go back to sleep…"

"No, I can't." She says it gently, because she knows he really is sorry, and she needs him to remember that it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except that he's still alive, and he's going to get well. It'll be a long road, but he's going to get well. Whatever she and Jack have to do to make that happen. "You know I can't, and I won't, and it's okay."

"I hate this." Daniel puts his forehead against the front of the toilet seat. "I hate being-"

"Don't," she says, a little more firmly. "You're not." She keeps stroking the back of his head, puts the glass down to lace her fingers between his. She's never going to take being able to touch him, either of them, for granted ever again. "I love you," she reminds him softly, as fiercely as she dares when people other than Jack are still sleeping in the house. "We love you. You could never be a burden, or a failure, or anything else you're thinking. You're a _hero_ ," she adds, mock-swooning, just to see if he'll smile.

He does, even daring to lift his head and look at her, and Sam decides she needs nothing else for Christmas but that. 

"Thank you," he whispers, and she smiles back at him.

"You're welcome. Anything you need, okay? Anything. I'm here." 

He nods like he's actually listening, even if he quickly puts his head back down.

"I've never felt this awful." It's a tired confession, a plea to something beyond them both to make it stop. "Not even the sarcophagus was like this."

 _Your body was trying to die,_ she thinks. They don't really know how the healing device works, and for once she really doesn't care – she only cares that it worked enough to save him, in the right hands. But his body was coming apart, before her dad and Selmak forced it back together _just enough_ , and there's no getting over that easily.

"We'll get through it." She wraps herself back around him, as if she can give him that promise in more than just words, and Daniel finally lets himself move away from the bowl to curl up into her arms.

  


* * *

  


That's how her dad finds them, later in the morning – not on the bathroom floor, thank God, but out on the couch where Daniel's curled under a heavy blanket with his head in her lap and she's been stroking his hair for so long it feels wrong to stop. She's finally reading October's edition of the _Journal of Astrophysics_ and Daniel's asleep again when her dad walks in, looking as unfairly awake as he always has first thing in the morning.

He hesitates, for just a second, when he sees them: Sam shoves down the sharp ache in her chest and offers him a smile. It's not his fault, she knows that. They've been lying to him, hiding this from him, flouting the regulations he at least used to hold sacrosanct, for years – she knows this is on them. On her. 

That doesn't make it any easier to have him give her that look again, the one that says _I don't understand you, Sam._

At least he's here, she reminds herself. That he'd find the time and get the clearance to come back for the holidays says he really wants to try and get used to this, to them. Given the sledgehammer she's taken to the bridges they've rebuilt over the last few years, that counts for a lot.

"Hi, dad." She says it softly enough not to wake Daniel, nods back toward the kitchen. "There's coffee, or tea, if you want it."

He smiles – a little stilted, but genuine. "I know, Sam."

Of course he does. She mentally kicks herself. "Would you - maybe make me a coffee?"

His eyes slide to Daniel, for just a moment, and Sam very firmly restrains the urge to tense up or hold tighter when he looks back to her, still managing to smile. "Sure. You want some breakfast? Selmak's got a craving for French toast."

This time her own smile comes just a little easier. "That sounds great, dad. Thank you."

"I love him too, you know." He perches on the arm of the chair opposite for a moment. "I love the whole damn lot of you. You do know that, don't you, kiddo?"

She swallows hard. "I know. I do. And I'm sorry we lied to you."

"I know." He looks tired, but maybe a little hopeful. "You do what you have to, to protect each other." The way he looks down again then does something to her heart, especially when she realises it's not Daniel he's watching but the gentle caress of her fingers. "Selmak and I had time to talk, the last few weeks. He… well, you remember how he got with Mark," and his lips twist into such a rueful grimace that she has to laugh.

"He's good for you."

"They're good for you." He nods to Daniel. "I always thought it was just the job, that you were finally getting to chase your dreams, but it's not. Is it?"

Sam actually feels a blush, soft and warm, creep into her cheeks. "No, it's not." It hasn't been just that for as long as she remembers.

"I'm glad." 

He's smiling still, and she thinks he actually means it. She's so surprised that her hand stills, staring at him, at least until Daniel stirs against her thigh.

"Mm… Sam…?"

"Shh." She shifts her hand to rub her thumb at his temple. "I'm still here, go back to sleep."

"Hm..." He blinks, rolling over to face her – and squints over at her dad, who's watching him. "Jacob. Hi."

"Hey, Daniel. How're you feeling?"

Daniel looks back up at her, a clear question in his eyes even as he answers. "Well, not feeling the need to vomit up my internal organs right now, so that's a start."

"That's good." Her dad hops back to his feet. "I was just about to make French toast and coffee. How about I get you something while I'm at it?"

"There's regular toast, or cereal," she offers. "You can steal some of Jack's Froot Loops if you want."

Daniel laughs sleepily. "Yeah, I can probably manage that."

Her dad laughs, too, and Sam thinks maybe this is going to all be okay. "Okay, Froot Loops it is."

  


* * *

  


Sam's making stuffing from a packet while her dad teaches Selmak how to properly mash potatoes, when he finally says; "So I gotta ask… Last year, when we were all on that ha'tak? Really?"

Daniel freezes with his mug halfway to his mouth: he and Jack both shoot her a _look_ over the back of the couch, in perfect unison. Sam clears her throat.

"What about it, dad?"

"You three were…?"

It's just hot in here because there's a giant glazed ham baking in the oven beside her. That's all. "Um, yes." She focuses very intently on the instructions on the back of the stuffing packet; never has she been thankful for something so simple to be so overly complicated.

"We didn't – not while you were around," Daniel says. Jack lightly shoulder-checks him with a quick, wide-eyed look. 

"Oh, well." She doesn't _see_ her dad's eyes roll, but maybe Selmak's are. "And the year before that? Netu? That little trip to the Tobin system?"

She can feel both of them still looking at her. "Yeah," she admits, softer. 

"You did a good job hiding it," he says, but he actually only sounds impressed. "Although, you know, I thought there was something about the way you looked at each other," he adds, and when she dares to look over he's eyeing Jack and oh god, he's _grinning._

Jack gets that look as if he's handling a live snake, which isn't exactly far off. "Jacob?"

"When George introduced us," he says, utterly unrepentant, and Sam suddenly wishes she'd planned to cook an entire three-course extravaganza just for something else to distract herself. What's more vivid about that day is the news of his cancer, but she's not going to bring that up right now. And she _can_ remember what he means – Jack in his dress blues, Daniel in that charcoal suit, the way they'd both smiled at her over the hint of those shared secrets…

"Oh, god."

"I have a lot of questions," he carries on, still with that slightly terrifying grin, and behind her Daniel chokes quietly on his tea. 

  


* * *

  


Sam's dining room hardly ever gets used for an actual meal, and Christmas is no exception. 

Janet and Cassie make the traditional drive over via the mountain with the usual giant Tupperware of roasted vegetables, gravy and Janet's secret cranberry sauce, except this year they have two passengers rather than one; Teal'c having baked a pumpkin pie in the commissary, Jonas somehow having both found out that it's tradition and acquired wine despite not yet having clearance to go out in public. When everything's ready, a haphazard collection of pots and trays laid out on the kitchen island, Jack carves the glazed ham that's been cooking since just after breakfast and everyone piles in, and Sam can honestly say she can't imagine any better way to share a pot luck Christmas dinner than this.

Cassie insists that Daniel stay put on the couch, loads a small plate for him and brings it over herself, and seats herself near his feet as if she's daring anyone else to wait on him. Her dad takes one armchair, Janet takes the other; Teal'c drags out the floor cushions that only he knows are more for she and Daniel to kneel than for an overflow of people, but no one bats an eyelid and Jonas happily grabs one to join Cassie at the coffee table.

She and Jack are the last ones to sit down, and it's such a small thing but her heart almost bursts with love to see that everyone's left the couch either side of Daniel free, her own glass of wine and Jack's beer already set at each end.

Daniel eats slowly, but he eats, and smiles, and laughs, and more than once Sam realises she's fighting back tears because he's still here to do all of those things. He's still here with them to ruffle Cassie's hair and joke with Teal'c, to randomly start geeking out with Jonas – they're going to be holy hell together, she can tell, especially when he's well enough to work.

But more than any of that, he's _here_. Nestled between them with Jack's arm around his waist hugging him close and their three hands tangled in his lap: tired, she can tell, but comfortable and happy and alive, and _theirs._


	6. 2002

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _The Changeling_ in a season six where Daniel survives Kelowna.

Lisa and David get to stay up until nine on Christmas Eve – but of course, then they both demand warm milk and cookies, and they fuss over putting out the other cookies and the bag of carrots and their letters, and then Lisa has to be reassured again that yes, Santa will definitely still know where to leave their presents even in Colorado. 

"Of course he will." Jack's incredulous at the very idea. "He's _Santa_."

Lisa still looks doubtful. "But what if he goes to our house by mistake and we're not there?"

"Santa doesn't make mistakes," Daniel assures her, and Sam has a sudden, vivid flashback: their beautiful boy a little younger, maybe a little softer but just as warm, patiently explaining to the newly-adopted Cassie in his lap why a jolly fat man in conspicuous clothing would be bringing her presents once a year.

She wonders if Jack's thinking the same thing, from the soft look in his eyes.

"All right," he says, turning conspiratorial as he shoots her a glance that Lisa's obviously supposed to see. "Look, we're not supposed to tell anyone about this, but… well, you're family, and I know you can keep a secret, right?"

Lisa nods, suddenly rapt. Jack smiles. "Okay, well. You know where your Aunt Sam and Danny and I work, don't you?"

"The mountain," Lisa says confidently. "Where you track all the satellites and stuff." 

Jack nods. "Yup. We track everything that flies. But I bet you _don't_ know," and he pauses like he's about to reveal the existence of the stargate and the Goa'uld and possibly flying pyramids as well, "that even Santa has to file a flight plan."

Sam's heart literally melts in her chest. Ellie's looking at Jack like he's the second coming, and the look on her dad's face says she's going to have to have a very clear conversation about her current birth control before he gates back to Ravanna. 

Daniel catches her eye and trades her the fondest smile. _God, I love that man._

 __She smiles right back at him, exactly the same. _Me too._

 __Of course, Jack goes on to explain, anyone can call NORAD to track where Santa's _been_ tonight, everyone knows that. But only someone who, say, works there, might be allowed to know the flight plan ahead of time. And not everyone has the _special_ direct number that goes to the red phone.

Lisa cocks her head at that. "Why is it red?"

Jack's grin is possibly the cheekiest she's ever seen. "Why do you think?"

"Because it's Santa's phone!"

"You're as smart as your Aunt Sam," Jack says, and he sounds just as proud, too. "So, why don't you go with your mom and get ready for bed, and then maybe we can call that number and see when Santa's due, huh?"

Sam is no authority on children, but she's willing to bet the average land speed of a nine-year-old girl isn't usually that close to the speed of sound.

  


* * *

  


Mark doesn't believe Jack will actually do it, right up until he's on his SGC-issue cell with General Hammond on the other end doing a Santa Claus that's far too adorable for words. Sam's not sure her brother believes he did it even after the kids have both kissed her goodnight and Lisa's hugged Jack so hard he might have a cracked rib or two, along with her solemn promise to go right to sleep and not get out of her sleeping bag until at least six in the morning. 

"You realise she'll want to do that every Christmas," Daniel murmurs, as Ellie finally steers both pyjama-clad kids toward the spare room with the expertise of a woman who could probably herd at least one litter of kittens if it became necessary. 

Jack shrugs as if that's not a hardship at all and slips his arm around her shoulders. 

Of course, Mark notices that. 

"So," he says, and immediately seems to realise he doesn't have anything to say after it. Sam deploys her best training not to suddenly fidget, just tries to remind herself that he just needs to get used to this. With the kids around they've had to be as good as if they're on base, which hasn't even been hard with two hyped-up pre-teens driving the evening along; it's been raucous enough to keep any awkwardness on the back burner, but now it's suddenly quiet and she's acutely aware that it's the first time Mark's actually come face to face with her love life. 

She has no idea if Mark has any friends or colleagues who aren't grade-A straight; even if it weren't ingrained in her bone-deep at this point, it's not the kind of thing she can just ask. She is pretty sure there's no one else in the family who's come out, at least to her brother.

Not that she's told him the entire truth, even now – aliens and space travel notwithstanding. It was tough enough explaining that yes, both of them; yes, they're all lovers and yes, it's serious; and _no_ he absolutely can't tell anyone but Ellie, even the kids. She's not ready to tell him that she's as bisexual as her guys are, however late she's figured it out; there's no one but Teal'c and Janet who know that and for now she's just fine with it staying that way. As for anything else - even hinting that she might not be as pure as the snow outside feels like a step that will send him over the edge, never mind trying to explain why she's happy this way. How she adores that Daniel's so comfortable in himself that he spends more downtime collared now than not, how it completes something inside her to know he's hers; how she feels more loved and cared for when Jack's tying her up than she ever has in her life. How it's the most honest and fulfilling relationship she can imagine... even aside from the kind of sex that can still quite literally blow her mind.

No, it'll be enough if Mark can not look quite that uncomfortable just because she's settling back into Jack's arm around her, or Daniel's hand is creeping over Jack's lap to tangle his fingers with theirs. 

Her dad is the one who finally breaks the tension, and Sam's ridiculously glad he's here. "So, who wants some more wine?" 

  


* * *

  


She trades Daniel the bathroom for a quick kiss at just after midnight, both of them already in pyjamas and tiptoeing around like they're avoiding hordes of armed Jaffa rather than wake the two kids who've against the odds actually stayed asleep.

Daniel disappears through their open bedroom door; Sam catches a quick glimpse of Jack looking up before she turns around –

And bumps straight into her brother, standing there in button-up pyjamas and staring, as if they were just making out in the middle of the hallway.

"You're _not,_ " he hisses. Sam frowns, confused.

"What?"

"You're going to…" He looks shifty, like he doesn't want the words in his mouth. "You know." He whispers it. "Go to bed with them."

She blinks. "What?" Okay, she's more eloquent than this, even after two glasses of wine. "Of course I am. Mark-"

"My _kids_ are in the house, Sam!"

She's not sure if it's disgust or outrage or both in his voice, but it hardly matters. They both hurt. "Not that I should have to tell you," she says, tries to force herself calm, "but we're not going to have sex-"

" _Sam!_ " Her name is sharp as a knife, and that she can definitely read. " _God,_ I don't want to know about – about _that._ "

"We'll lock the door, if you're so worried," she snaps acidly. "We've kept this a secret for five years, I think I can guarantee the kids won't find out for one night."

"That's not the _point._ "

"What exactly is your point?" She can hear her own voice rising, her pulse pounding in her ears. 

"It's not –" He cuts himself off, drops his voice back to a harsh whisper. "Why can't they sleep in the basement like last time?"

It's like trying to hold together something that's cracking apart in her hands, too fast and irregular for her to fix it. "Why should they have to?" God, he looks like he's actually going to try and answer that, and she has to keep talking to keep from hearing it. "I told you this. They're my partners. We're all adults and yes, we sleep together. In my bed. I'm not sorry if you don't like it." 

"Sam-"

"Go to bed, Mark," she says, roughly, and shuts the bathroom door before she hits him with something harder than words.

  


* * *

  


"Uncle Jack, help me open it!"

The gleeful squeal stops Sam at the open door as she's coming back in from the yard. Her niece and nephew are adrift in a sea of crumpled wrapping paper, where Lisa seems to have landed her white whale. Jack's nursing his morning coffee on the couch which is normally a sign to leave him be; but as Sam watches, he just chuckles and slides gracelessly onto the floor, gesturing for her to drag the giant box she's so excited about across the rug to him.

"Lisa, don't call him that."

Sam stiffens: Lisa frowns with all the innocence of a ten year old. "Why not?"

It's a small comfort that Mark doesn't seem prepared to be challenged on his prejudices by a girl not even into double digits, and seems to realise quickly enough that he can't say _because it reminds me that he's sleeping with your auntie and I don't like it._

"Well, because Jack isn't your real uncle, so he might not like it," he says, lamely. 

Sam's taken gunshots that hurt less than those words. _Not your real uncle._

 _Not real._ That's what Mark thinks, what he wants to tell his children. That what she has with the two most amazing men in the galaxy isn't real. That Jack and Daniel aren't _every bit_ the uncles his kids deserve, can't love them just as if they could have the legal paperwork to prove it.

Lisa just looks so confused, Sam's heart goes out to her and guilt crashes through her chest. It's one thing to put herself through this crap, and she hates that the guys have to suffer it but at least they chose her – but Lisa's just a _kid,_ it's just unfair...

A kid who's looking at Jack with wide, sad eyes and a trembling lip. "I'm sorry, unc- Jack," she sniffles, "I didn't mean to."

"Hey, it's okay, kiddo." How Jack just smiles gently at her like that and doesn't give away how much he probably wants to punch Mark in the face, Sam has no idea, but he does. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to push back hot tears of her own at the sight. "You can call me whatever you want."

"Really?"

"Sure. I promise." Jack holds out his hand, huge and strong beside her small fingers. "Pinkie swear, how about that?"

Lisa hooks her little finger around his – for all of a second, before she simply throws herself into his lap and her arms coil around his neck.

"I love you, uncle Jack," she declares, bright and clear and all childlike honesty. 

Sam has a moment to see Jack hugging her back, those big careful hands on her back and her hair, to catch the look on his face and the way Mark's sitting, stiff and awkward and then she just – she _can't_.

  


* * *

  


She's curled on the bed with her back to the closed door and just hoping to hell no one comes to find her, when someone comes to find her.

It's too much to hope she can pass for someone who hasn't been crying for the last twenty minutes. Her backup plan is to just breathe as slow as she can, keep her eyes closed and hope they think she's just napping-

"Sam?"

There's the very quiet sound of the door closing again. The lock turning. She doesn't move, just bites her lip hard to keep from sobbing. 

"Sam," Daniel says again, softer. The bed dips behind her; his hand is warm on her shoulder. "Sam, what's wrong?"

If she looks at him she's going to lose it. She can't lose it, not on Christmas Day, not with everyone here. She has to pull herself back together. Ergo, she can't look at him.

It seems Daniel does not have sight of this logic diagram.

He doesn't say anything more; he just moves that hand from her shoulder to stroke her hair, so very gently, and Sam's hand flies to her mouth in a desperate attempt to hold in the sobs. 

"Oh, Sam..." The weight behind her shifts, the mattress dipping lower, and then he's spooning up behind her and holding her tight, pressing his mouth to the back of her shoulder.

She shudders, and cries, and Daniel just hugs her and strokes her and murmurs soft nonsense to her. "Shhh, shhh, I'm here, I've got you. Shh, it's okay. It's okay."

"It's not okay." She grips his arm with talon-like fingers. "It's not _okay,_ I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh." Daniel kisses her cheek. "Shh, don't be sorry. Whatever it is, we'll fix it, okay? We can fix it. We can always fix it."

"I don't know how," she whispers, a broken confession. "I don't know what to say to him, I don't – they're just _kids,_ Daniel, they don't understand, why would they understand?" 

"Mark," he says, just gently. She sobs and nods into the pillow. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. Shh," he squeezes her tight, kisses her shoulder again. "Shh. It's okay, it'll be okay. We can go, if you want-"

"He told her not to call Jack her uncle."

Daniel draws in a sharp breath. She can hear, in his long moment of silence, all the pain and righteous fury and sadness tangled inside her. "What did Jack say?"

The laugh escapes before she realises it, fast and fractured, humorless. "He was perfect. I love him so much, I love you _both,_ it's _real,_ Daniel, this is real-"

"Of course it is." He doesn't even sound confused, even though she knows she's probably not making any sense. He just threads their fingers together, presses their hands over her heart. "Of course it is, Sam. We love you. I love you, Jack loves you. I love him."

It's so true and so simple, and Mark just can't _see._ He won't see. 

"I couldn't even..." At least it's Daniel, the one other person in the world who'll understand. "I didn't know what to do, Daniel. He just – god, I can't imagine – he already lost Charlie, it's not fair –"

"I know." He sighs, his breath hot against the back of her neck, and doesn't try to pretend they can make it better. "I know."

  


* * *

  


"He'll come round, Sam." 

She starts at the sound of her dad's voice. He must have come outside through the back yard; she hasn't heard the front door open behind her since she snuck out here in the pre-bedtime melee. 

The top step is damp under her jeans and the night air is biting on her cheeks, but it's doing the job of holding her senses in thrall enough that she's managing not to really think too hard. Her fingers are frozen, though. She presses them between her thighs for some warmth.

He settles onto the step beside her, knees drawn up just the same. "It's late. Don't you have a couple of hot guys in there to be keeping you warm?"

She laughs, and it's closer to tears than she wants it to be. "Are we really ready to have the conversation about how hot my guys are?"

"The perils of a shameless and genderless symbiote, I'm afraid," he says, and that springs a real laugh from her. He smiles and slips his arm around her back, and for once in her life she doesn't hesitate to lean into him.

"It hurts, dad."

His sigh is heavy enough she feels it against her hair. "I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."

"He didn't talk to us for how many years, you really think he'll come round to this?"

"I did."

"You had Selmak hounding you."

"Ellie's a helluva lot worse than Selmak."

She huffs quietly. "Yeah. Maybe."

He cups a hand around her head, presses a kiss to her hair. "Go get some sleep. You're probably keeping Jack up."

She smiles and hugs him, hard. "Thanks, dad."

He leans back to look at her, cups her face in his hands. They're warm and strong, but gentle, and she thinks for maybe the first time that if it's true that women look for men like their fathers, maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

"I love you, Sam. And crazy as you all drive me, I couldn't ask for anyone better for you than those two idiots in there."

She laughs again, blinks to clear her vision as he pulls her to her feet and tells herself it's just the cold air.

"You're freezing," Daniel murmurs, the moment she crawls up the middle of the bed and slips under the duvet between them. He pulls her hands into his and chafes them gently together. Jack twitches when her skin touches his and then rolls over with a mumbled complaint, curling in around her as if it's his personal mission to warm her up.

"I love you," she whispers back, to both of them. "It's always going to be both of you. You're all I'd ever choose."

"Back at ya," Jack murmurs, holding her so tight, like he knows exactly why she needs to say it. "Always." 

Daniel cradles her hands in his, kisses her fingertips. "You know I'm yours." He murmurs it around a kiss, pressed into her palm like a gift. "I'll always be yours."

She's never felt as loved, as secure and complete as she does between them. "I'm sorry," she says, screws her eyes shut. "About Mark."

"Sam." Jack squeezes her even tighter, buries his face in the crook of her neck. "I got to be an uncle today. At _Christmas_." His voice is thick enough that Daniel puts a gentle hand out and strokes his hair. 

"But-"

"Doesn't matter. Not the words that matter." His mouth is hot against her neck. "Take the good stuff where it comes," he murmurs, and she just _knows_ the place that comes from, the empty place in him where Charlie should be: she can't not listen to that. 

So, okay. Her brother is being an ass and it _hurts_ – but her dad is great, and Ellie's at least okay about it, and the kids just think they have two more uncles anyway. She has Daniel and Jack, here in her bed the way they are every night, years of so much love and trust wrapped around them. 

It's not what Mark wants to see, it's nothing close to normal, but it's pretty damned good. 


	7. 2003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of months post- _Heroes_. Janet lives, obviously.

"I'm just surprised," Janet says, from the chair that's unofficially become hers over the last six weeks. Her other chair, the one with wheels, is still in Sam's office nearest the door, though her crutches are close to hand. "You've been together for how long now and you're giving him candy for Christmas?"

Sam takes a quick sip of her tea and reaches for the tape. "Well, I gave him the big fucking gun last year, so..."

Janet rolls her eyes mock-seriously. "It just doesn't seem like a very… personal gift, that's all."

She grins. "Oh, those are already wrapped."

Janet raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. Sam counts that as a point to her. "I haven't seen anything under the tree."

Sam follows her gaze over to the tree in question, tucked into the corner of the living room. She doesn't usually go for anything extravagant anyway, but she'd picked out the most slender specimen available this year, to keep the room as clear as possible for Janet's chair: it's as tall and willowy as a pine tree can be, the usual modest pile of gifts tucked neater than ever under its lowest bows. 

It is, of course, overloaded with _all_ of her decorations, since Jack doesn't believe in wastage. 

She waggles her eyebrows mischievously. "Those don't go under the tree."

Janet laughs, which is definitely a point to Sam – and blushes, too, which is a triple score. 

"Anything you want me to wrap for you?" She sticks the last piece of tape down, finally concealing the unhealthily-sized box of Pop Rocks – grape, naturally – in blue-and-silver paper, and moves on to the packet of exorbitantly expensive coffee that's last on her list.

"I can wrap a few boxes myself, Sam."

"I know." She offers a smile to counter Janet's tone. "But I've got everything out, and there's paper left over."

Janet narrows her eyes from behind her tea – it's subtle, but Sam's used to her tells by now. "Would you wrap Jack's or Daniel's for them?"

"Sure," she says, even knowing Janet isn't going to believe her. But of course she would, even if they were just pressed for time, never mind recovering from a broken spine and all the internal mess that came along with it. "I did Daniel's, when he was ill," she says, more gently. 

Janet lowers her mug with a sigh, the rising fight going out of her as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Sam can understand her frustration. As much as she wants to pretend she'd be a perfect patient if the roles were reversed, she'd probably be at least as bad. Even a week banned from the mountain – downtime with her team notwithstanding – is usually enough to drive her up the wall; she can't imagine being two months in and still not able to go back to work. Not knowing if she'll ever be able to.

At least Janet isn't being calm about it. Sam would be more worried if she were, even if it does mean a few frayed tempers and a lot of tears. 

"You do know we like having you here," she says. She makes a point to bring it up every so often, even if she's never really going to be believed. 

"Oh please, it's like having your brother in the house and you know it."

"That's not true. I'd much rather have you staying than Mark." 

She should know better than to think Janet would miss the hint of bitterness she can't quite keep out of her voice. "He's still having issues, huh?"

She shrugs. "He's had issues with my life choices since I was eighteen. He'll get over it or he won't." Mark's at least admitted defeat over the kids – indirectly the reason Sam has so much paper around, given the sheer bulk of gifts they've sent to San Diego – but for the second time in her life, it's still Ellie who answers the phone whenever she calls. 

Still, they're having an SGC family Christmas this year, and she doesn't want to dwell on things she wishes were different but can't change. Not when, also for the second time in her life, she's beyond grateful to the universe for not taking part of her family from her.

"I'm sure he will," Janet says.

"No, you're not."

"No, I'm not." Janet looks sympathetic, before she peers into her mug. "Would you mind making some more tea?"

She smiles, hops up to her feet. "Sure." That Janet will actually ask is a big step forward, and a big relief. "Herbal? That winter spice stuff Daniel picked up yesterday is really good."

"Please." Janet even hands over her empty mug without complaint. "So do you know what the guys have bought _you_ for Christmas?"

Sam busies herself with the kettle, grabbing herself a fresh mug, and waits just a beat too long.

"You _do,_ " Janet says, full of mischievous delight. "What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Janet's known they aren't at all vanilla for as long as she's known they were anything, but they've had some definite bumps in the road over the more… intense details. She hadn't even been sure Janet would agree to stay here after 666, even though there weren't that many other options and they really can be discreet even at home, even for a few months, if it makes her more comfortable.

And yet it's been getting more comfortable slowly anyway. Seeing them day in, day out has probably helped that more than every time they've tried to explain things in words: Sam supposes it's harder to worry about the psychological health of their relationship when the mundanities of it are suddenly so visible. Janet's suddenly experiencing their well-honed breakfast routine and the way Jack stubbornly yet patiently makes them eat, in contrast to her own and Daniel's truly mediocre collective cooking skills; the regular bickering over the right way to fold laundry and whose turn it is to pick up groceries; the laughable fact that for all the variety in their sex life, they always cuddle up on the couch together the same way.

"Sure." All of that must be having an effect for her to at least sound confident, or maybe just willing to take the risk. Another way it isn't at all like having Mark around – Janet actually tries, even when she doesn't understand, and Sam can't doubt for a second that she loves them regardless.

The honey bottle is sweet-sticky; she adds a squeeze to each mug and licks her fingers. "Well…"

Janet waggles her eyebrows over the whistle of the kettle. "Come on, spill. I can keep a secret."

She knows _that._ "Okay. Jack's been way too interested in working on his shibari technique the last few weeks, either he wants something or he's bought me something." Or both: there's a bolt of silky grey rope already wrapped and hidden in the closet with his name on it. 

"Oh," Janet says, but she sounds more curious than embarrassed. "That sounds like fun?"

She relaxes a little more at that. "It really is. It's intense, but – I don't know, slower." She has such a shorthand with Jack, and with Daniel, it's sometimes hard to find the right words with someone who doesn't know the sensations she's talking about. Even someone else she's this close to. "It's a really great feeling, for me anyway. The high is amazing. Better than an orgasm sometimes, which, you know." She dares a little smirk. "Useful at the moment."

Apparently Janet's more comfortable than she's thought, from the sudden glint in her eye. "But you can be so _quiet,_ " she teases, and it's Sam's turn to blush as she hands over the tea.

"Hey, I said I was sorry!"

Janet grins, inhaling the mulled-spice scent wafting up from her mug. "You did," she admits. "And I appreciate it," but that teasing glint in her eyes isn't going anywhere.

Sam glares playfully. She isn't even close to as self-conscious as she's making out, and she knows Janet knows, but it does get her a real laugh and if being teased about her sex life is what that takes, she'll happily endure it. And she really didn't mean to be quite _that_ loud less than a week after gaining a house guest. 

She waves the scissors at Janet's grin. "Okay, that's it. What did you want me to wrap?"

  


* * *

  


" _Jack,_ " she hisses, laughing, at five a.m. on Christmas morning. 

"Janet will be pleased," Daniel whispers, grinning at her, his eyes dancing with laughter he's doing his best to hold in. Sam's hands are full of too-crinkly wrapping paper and the quite literal gag gift she's just unwrapped, so she just pokes him playfully with her foot instead. 

"If it's good enough she'll never know," Jack whispers back, grinning as he crawls back up from the foot of the bed. "Wanna try it out?"

Sam has moments, once in a while, when her life just seems so bright and full of color that it all just feels wondrously unreal. Sometimes it's when she's about to blow up a sun or she's looking out over an alien city… and sometimes it's when there's a naked Jack O'Neill leaning over her, trailing the ends of soft black rope across her skin and suggesting she actually wear the hot pink gag that will fill her mouth up with the short, fat silicon cock attached to the inside. Presumably, especially since it's the season of giving, while he or Daniel or both of them do something truly unholy to her in the name of _trying it out_.

She throws the waste paper over the side of the bed and pushes the gag into Jack's hand.

  


* * *

  


Sam watched _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ every year when she was a kid and still has the tape to prove it, which of course Cassie's found by the time everyone over the age of eighteen actually surfaces mid-morning. 

Janet's seasonal comfort movie, it turns out, is _A Wonderful Life,_ and finding this out leads on to explaining that Daniel always reads or watches at least one version of _A Christmas Carol_ every December, while Jack insists that _The Muppet Christmas Carol_ is the pinnacle of all of them and cannot be outdone. Teal'c, of course, believes _Groundhog Day_ is a cinematic masterpiece.

Cassie, proving she's the child of them all no matter what her genes or adoption papers say, insists that _Die Hard_ is a Christmas movie and therefore trumps them all.

Jack promptly declares a movie marathon in the same tone he'd give firing orders. 

They've just finished Patrick Stewart's masterful rendition of Scrooge – which even Jack has to admit had enough gravitas to take down a mothership, even if it still isn't better than Michael Caine and a chorus of puppets – and they're about to break up Dickens with some classic Bill Murray action, mainly because Teal'c is closest to the VCR. Behind her in the kitchen, Daniel and Cassie are taking an inordinate amount of time and a delightful amount of laughter to make a round of hot chocolate. 

Sam looks over from her spot on the couch to see Janet smiling – a real, open, pain-free smile – and the thought hits her with such a wave of gratitude that it drives everything else out of her head. _This is what family looks like_. 

She loves her dad and they're closer now than ever, and that's wonderful. She loves Mark – despite his issues with her life – and Ellie, and adores the kids, and she wouldn't give up being _Auntie Sam_ for a second.

But these people, this little group right here… all a little battered and bruised by the world, who've patched each other back together every time… this is what _a family of your own_ means, to her, and she doesn't think she could be happier.

Of course it turns out she's wrong about that, too. 

First it's Cass handing her a precariously balanced cream-and-marshmallows-and-sprinkles monstrosity that might, theoretically, contain hot chocolate at a depth equivalent to the Earth's molten core. The handover has to be made carefully to maintain surface cohesion and stability, but even so she gets the sense that Cass is looking at her just a little too intensely.

Janet doesn't get the same treatment, and nor does Teal'c. Sam's wondering if maybe she's done something wrong, maybe they need to have a talk, when the corner of her gaze catches on Cassie and Daniel back in the kitchen – supposedly just washing up the milk pans, yet looking more furtive and conspiratorial than the year he taught her the true meaning of Hallowe'en at Janet's expense.

Daniel shoots a quick, subtle glance behind them; Cassie step-nudges him with her shoulder. Daniel turns back to the sink, but the way he ducks his head Sam knows he's smiling or blushing or both. Cassie leans a bit closer and half-whispers something that makes him return the shoulder-shove, whisper something short and questioning back to her. 

Cassie wipes her hands on the dishcloth and hugs him around the waist the way she did as a kid, when she'd have nightmares of Hanka and it was always Daniel's voice that soothed her the best. Daniel, hands still in the sink, leans his head against her hair the way he did then, too, and Sam doesn't think she's imagining the way Cass seems to hug him even tighter.

Then Jack wanders back in from the yard, and Cassie untangles herself with a quick stretch up to kiss Daniel on the cheek – goes over to Jack, grabs him by the hand and drags him out into the hall.

Even Janet spots that, and gives her a _what was that?_ look, but Sam can only shrug and take another run at defeating her cream nemesis. It's in danger of melting all over her if she doesn't give it her full attention, which may have been Cassie's plan all along: it certainly distracts her enough that she misses Daniel disappearing from the room, too, and then she's _really_ suspicious. Both of them and Cassandra – who will definitely be _Cassandra_ when whatever she's plotting comes to light – off somewhere being all secretive together? She actually dreads to think.

It's almost worse when Jack comes back in, claims one of the remaining mugs for himself, happily squirts half the remaining cream on top before he just… comes back and settles into the couch as if he never even left.

Sam eyes him speculatively, and maybe a little suspiciously. All right, a lot suspiciously, but this is her family and she knows them far too well.

Jack just grins, that expression that says there's no point in even trying to drag anything out of him, and takes down his own mountain of cream by the messier but more expedient method of just applying a wide-open mouth and tongue to the operation. 

Without ever taking his gaze from hers, of course, because he's a _bastard_ like that. 

Sam sticks her tongue out at him, pretends she's not thinking about his mouth on her under the duvet this morning, just exactly like that. Pretends she isn't the one to break first, that she'd just rather be cuddled up against him, that's all.

Jack chuckles, that dark little noise of pleasure that means she isn't fooling him for a second, and wraps his arm around her just as Cassie plops down at the other end of the couch. She pulls her feet up to sit cross-legged, her own leaning tower of decadence in hand, and grins like she's entirely innocent of anything.

"Daniel said we can start," she says. Teal'c inclines his head and pushes the tape in.

Sam eyes her. "Cassandra…"

Cassie smiles around a spoonful of cream. "He's not going to miss anything. Literally the same thing happens again in ten minutes."

That's of course not what she means at all, and Cass knows it, and she knows Cass knows – but then Jack puts a calm but firm hand on her wrist, and when she glances to him instead just takes a very deliberate sip of his mug.

Daniel finally reappears as _I Got You Babe_ starts for the second time. Sam hears him behind her in the kitchen, but she's too tightly nestled into Jack's embrace to turn and look. The hum and ping of the microwave gives away that he's probably reheating hot chocolate; sure enough, he comes around their end of the couch with a giant mug in hand.

In soft grey pyjama pants and a white tank, with his usual collar on and its matching leash coiled up loosely around his hand. 

_Oh,_ Sam thinks, softly surprised and a little anxious, but mostly just the calm happiness that always comes over her to see him like this.

Jack hooks a pillow out from under the coffee table with his foot just as if he's been waiting and sits up a little more, giving Daniel enough space to get down onto his knees right there between theirs.

That movement must be what catches Janet's attention. Sam sees her glance over – and the subtle double-take, the way her eyes widen with something that might be panic and shift instantly to Cassie, the way she's obviously torn whether to say something or keep quiet and hope Cass hasn't seen –

Jack unwraps his arm from around Sam's waist and leans forward enough to rest a hand gently on Daniel's shoulder, palm-up. Sam knows that request, even if no one else in the room does; she knows Daniel's going to put the leash in his hand, positioned so that Jack can reach around with the ease of long practice and hook the clasp to the front of his collar with a soft, well-oiled _click_. 

The sound of it makes Janet jump, and Cassie look round from the TV. Jack leans back, the length of soft weighted blue leather reeling out along his thigh until he's settled back and he's tugging her back in against him. A single roll of his wrist takes just enough slack off the leash, and Sam doesn't have to see Daniel's face to feel the wave of relaxation that flows through him. She's felt it enough herself, from both sides.

So she watches Janet: Janet, who's very still and watching Cassie, and Sam is acutely aware from that stare that while Cass has kept their secret for almost as long as Janet, they've never mentioned a thing about _this_ to her at all. There's no way Janet would, Sam's never felt she was allowed, and she's sure she'd know if Jack or Daniel had…

But, apparently, Cass doesn't need to be told. The way she's looking at Daniel is nothing like her mother: she's smiling with childlike delight and teenage smugness, all wrapped up in a kind of easy acceptance that makes Sam want to hug the life out of her. "Ooh, Jack was right."

Janet gasps. " _Cassie!_ "

"What?" Cass rolls her eyes and grins at Sam. "It's beautiful, did you really make it?" She's cheeky enough she even shoots Janet a sly look. "What did you think I meant?"

Jack snorts with laughter. Janet flushes red and looks as if she's trying to look stern, but only succeeds in a half-hearted glare at her mischief-making daughter.

Daniel puts his fingertips lightly to his collar, looks up at Sam over his shoulder with that familiar quiet in his eyes and a glitter of amusement in his own smile. She meets his eyes and smiles tenderly back at him. _My god, you're beautiful._ Hell, he's practically _edible_ , looking like that in the collar and leash she made especially for him.

"Yeah, I did. A while ago now." She's wrestled her hot chocolate down to be manageable with one hand, now. She puts the other out far enough and Daniel shuffles a little to lean back against the couch, his hair freshly-dried warm and fluffy under her fingers.

"It looks great on him," Cass says - and suddenly looks younger again, the same shy little girl they brought home from Hanka, the way a part of Sam will always see her. "Is he…"

"You can talk to him," Jack says. It could be teasing, but his voice is just calm and level. Sam doesn't have to turn her head to know he's giving Cassie that look that's almost as good as a hug to reassure her. "It's not a control thing. Not like that, anyway."

Cassie gives him a little smile, one that just becomes hopeful and curious when she looks down. "Are you happy, Daniel?"

It's such a simple question, perfectly asked as if it's the only thing that matters, and Sam is so goddamned proud she can barely stand it.

Daniel hums quietly; she can feel how relaxed he is, practically languid between them as he looks up. "Really happy," he says, so honest it makes Sam's heart soar. She knows it, of course she does, but hearing him say it – be able to say it… "Thank you," he adds, something thicker in his voice for a moment as he reaches up a hand to squeeze Cass's knee just the way he has since she was a kid. 

Cassie puts her hand over his. "You look good," she says. "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it's kind of just…"

"They are who they are," Teal'c says simply from the other chair.

Cassie nods, with a smile like she knows exactly what he means. "Yeah." She looks at Sam as if she needs to explain. "We're family. I didn't want to be the reason you had to pretend."

Sam doesn't know what to say. There aren't words enough for the pure joy inside her. 

"You can do whatever you want, too," Jack murmurs into her ear. He sounds like she feels. "Turns out our little girl is all grown up and opinionated these days. She has _sources_ about this stuff." 

Sam laughs. So does Janet, truly sincere with a mother's pride, and they share a smile that makes Sam's cheeks ache. 

Cassie just grins broadly. "Well, aren't I supposed to be a more advanced human?"


	8. 2004

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post the _Threads / Moebius_ team fishing trip. This is an explicit and kinky chapter - for those who want to skip any sexytiems, stop before the fourth section.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Hm?"

"Is this what it's like to shop for wedding rings?"

Jack chuckles. Sam turns back to them just in time to see his hand brush Daniel's back. "Little bit, yeah. Less peripheral bondage gear, though. At least last time I was doing it." 

It should be a shock for one of them to use that word: _wedding._ There should be a terrifying weight to it – at least that's what Sam remembers, all those years ago when Jonas slipped his ring onto her finger.

There isn't, at all.

She worms her arms around Daniel's waist and rests her chin on his shoulder. He's warm and comfortable to lean into, and that's just how it feels to think about something so permanent – an undeniably comfortable warmth that's been living in her chest since he first announced this is what he wants.

It's odd to realise that she could marry one of them now. Jack isn't her direct CO, they're officially not on the same team any more; those rules at least are out of their way at long last, but she would never. Not just one of them, and not while they still can't.

It almost doesn't matter. They've always made this relationship work the way they need it to, and they've made more commitments to each other over the last eight years than most traditional marriages anyway. This is just one more step along the way, natural as anything she can imagine.

Daniel puts his right hand over hers, lacing their fingers together. On the glass counter in front of him is a long tray pulled out by the attendant who's now across the store, demonstrating the appropriate use of various harnesses to a very interested young couple. It's a typical enough jewellery display, except in place of delicate wedding rings are an array of solidly crafted bracelets in leather and steel, a small key tied to the price tag of each one.

She'd have tried her hand at making one, but she's impressed the simple collar she made seven years ago is still up to use. Jewellery is a lot more intricate, and Daniel specifically wants it to lock – actually lock, with a key like these, which has honestly made her a little overwhelmed for shopping let alone doing delicate work with power tools.

Still, between the Springs, Denver and Minneapolis they've had more a lot more choice than she expected to find. It's taken a few weeks but they've finally got down to this one store a couple hours from the cabin, this one tray, and the handful of choices they all agree on.

Jack wraps his fingers, gentle but firm, around Daniel's left wrist where he's going to wear whatever they buy. Where it's going to stand in for his collar – except it's going to lock and stay there, for as long as he's in Atlantis and after he's home. 

It's not a wedding ring: to Sam it feels like much more than that. Daniel is theirs _,_ and he doesn't want to go away without being able to see that every single day.

"You choose," Jack says, his thumb stroking softly enough that she can see Daniel's skin prickle. "Whichever you want. And if you so much as think about the price tag there's no sex on the menu tonight."

Daniel smirks. "As if I'd pass up the chance for either of you to spend those hard-earned Air Force dollars on me." He touches one option she's noticed he keeps coming back to; no more than an inch wide but still with a good weight, made of smooth black medical-grade titanium. The detailing is simple enough to probably pass the uniform code if it had to, but it would suit him beautifully: a discreet O-ring on a thin band of bright steel all the way around, inset deep into the titanium so that the surface is completely smooth. She's pretty sure what's drawn him to that one in particular, too; the flat steel clasp has not one but two keyholes, set side-by-side.

"I like that one," she murmurs in his ear. 

He turns his head just enough for her to see his smile. "Yeah?"

"Here." Jack takes the bracelet and hooks it lightly over Daniel's wrist, holds it down with his thumb and forefinger. "What do we think?"

It fits just right, not too tight but snug enough not to move, and it looks _perfect_. Daniel shivers; it's subtle, but she feels it all the way down his spine. She hugs him a little tighter, sneaks a kiss into the crook of his neck, and Jack just smiles.

"This one, then, huh?"

Daniel doesn't have to say it, but he does – a soft, smiled, happy, "Yes, sir," that makes Jack's eyes go suspiciously wet for a moment before he puts his other hand to Daniel's cheek and leans in. He's so close Sam can feel the warmth of his breath, mingle her own with theirs, before his mouth meets Daniel's in a loving, lingering kiss.

  


* * *

  


"I see that your search was successful," Teal'c says, the first time Daniel sits down at their commissary table after they get back from Minnesota. 

It's odd to be here so close to Christmas. Even odder to think that in the seven Decembers since she took this posting, she's never once spent this last week holed up in her lab ploughing through side projects or catching up on work. 

She really isn't the Samantha Carter who walked into that briefing room eight years ago, any more. She hasn't been for a long time.

Teal'c's words are chosen carefully, for a public room, but he still sounds like the proudest big brother in the galaxy – and looks it, when Daniel smiles and runs his fingers around the bracelet on his wrist.

"Yeah," is all he says, and all he needs to say for Teal'c to stretch out an arm in that traditional Jaffa gesture of affection and respect.

Daniel grips it firmly, himself looking so pleased that Sam's heart skips. Another thing that's never changed in all those years, the sudden surge of feeling she always gets when reality strikes and reminds her that this is all hers. This place, this job, these men, this family…

Except it is about to change. Tomorrow Teal'c will leave for Dakara, to take up the place he so deserves on the new Jaffa Council. She's so goddamned proud of him she could explode, and it's hardly as if they won't see each other again, but that doesn't change the fact that he's _leaving._ Or that by the new year, Jack will be in DC; Daniel will be on the _Daedalus_ halfway to Atlantis; and she'll be remembering what base housing is like while she tries to get a handle on Nevada. 

Not being here will be strange, but easier than staying without them. Jack being gone is bad enough but at least she's going to see him at weekends, talk to him every day. But Daniel… 

Of course she wants him to go to Atlantis. He's beyond excited, he's going to do great work there, and he'll have the time of his life. It's where he should be, and it's everything he could want, at least professionally… but it's close enough now that it's real. He hasn't been out of her life for more than a week for eight years, and now she might not even manage to hear his voice for months –

"Hey." Jack's voice breaks her train of thought. "Stop it," he murmurs, though with enough understanding that she knows he's feeling the same. 

"Sorry." She leans into him, and then a little more than she intended, when he covers her hand on the table and gives a gentle squeeze.

Daniel doesn't even glance their way – just puts his hand over theirs, and she knows without words that they're all feeling exactly the same.

  


* * *

  


Teal'c's quarters look odd without candles everywhere. Sam tucks a knee up in front of her on the bed; sitting on the floor, Daniel hooks an arm around her ankle and rests his head against her shin. She smiles affectionately and sinks her fingers into his hair, light enough that he could move but firm enough that he'd have to try.

He makes a sound that's not even a sigh, just a happy little breath. She smooths his hair gently with her thumb and lets her eyes slide half-closed, tries to just fix this moment in her memory in perfect clarity. The quiet, enclosed sense of being in this familiar room, the four of them. The familiar softness of Daniel's hair between her fingertips. The sound of him breathing like that. Jack sitting down beside her, somehow feeling him lean in even before his mouth touches hers in a sweet, playful kiss.

She smiles and opens her eyes again. Jack gives her possibly the dopiest smile he's ever turned her way, at least on this side of the security gates.

"Love you," he murmurs, but it's not bittersweet the way it could be right now, just light and honest. 

"Love you too," she murmurs back – and no, _that's_ the dopiest smile, and it only gets worse when he strokes Daniel's hair and gets a soft hum in response. 

Every second is bringing them closer to being apart, so they're going to make every second count.

"I have gifts for each of you," Teal'c says, taking the chair for himself and placing three perfectly-wrapped boxes on the bare dresser. "While it is not yet Christmas Day, I wish for you to open them now."

"Sweet," Jack says eagerly. Daniel snorts.

"As if you need to give Jack an excuse to open his presents early."

"If you don't want to open yours, I'll do it for you," Jack offers with a grin.

"No way, I wouldn't insult Teal'c like that." Daniel shifts to sit cross-legged instead and leans back against Jack's knees, but he's careful not to be too far that she can't still reach. 

She feels slightly addicted to touching them both right now. She knows it's because she's going to miss it so much, but it's still somewhere on an edge between exciting and unnerving. Eight years ago she'd never have imagined – hell, she'd never have imagined _any_ of this, but that she'd sit like this even in a private room, on base, and not only want but _need_ to feel Daniel close, Jack against her…

With both hands, Teal'c hands each of them a box. Measured and even a little reverent, and _shit._ She's not going to cry even before they've opened anything.

"Who's going first?" Jack asks, giving Teal'c the choice. Teal'c inclines his head with one of those rare, calm smiles.

"Perhaps you could open them together."

Daniel unerringly seeks out a gap in the paper and works his finger under it, rips it neatly all the way around one side of the box. Jack tears into it like a little kid, of course. Sam smiles at them both and opens her own with surprisingly nervous fingers. 

The box underneath is plain, of stiff black card. The shallow lid is slotted tightly on top and she works it off with both hands, watching Daniel and Jack do the same. Whatever's inside is wrapped loosely in enough layers of grey tissue paper to hide it, but Daniel's soft exclamation catches her before she gets any further.

"Oh, wow." His voice is almost incredulous and he's holding a collar, but one that's nothing like any she's ever seen or they could buy. It's intricately crafted of what must be thousands of tiny beads, gold and silver and turquoise, and while it has the look of something that's truly old, she has the sneaking suspicion if Daniel were to put it on it would fit him very well. His touch is almost protective as he runs his fingers over it, as if he's checking it's real. "Teal'c, how did you even get this?"

"I believe I will not divulge that information," Teal'c says. Daniel laughs.

"It's _beautiful_. Thank you." He looks up at her, and Jack. For a moment there's a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, but only for a moment – she doesn't let it stay any longer, doesn't have to look at Jack to know the approval he's openly showing too. Sure, if anyone else gave Daniel an obviously priceless collar, whether they intended him to wear it or not, they'd have to hope she wasn't armed at the time – but this is Teal'c. The only thought in her head is that it really is beautiful and she'd love to see it wrapped around Daniel's neck.

"Ah, _sweet,_ " Jack says, with the rustle of paper, pulling her gaze away.

"Oh god," Daniel breathes, his fingers still on the collar but his eyes fixed on the double-bladed Jaffa style knife in Jack's hands. It's shorter than Teal'c's own, but it's crafted beautifully: the blade is a dark alloy of some kind, the hilt wrapped in a rich brown leather, and it balances exactly right when Jack sets it on his finger. It's too short to be effective offensively – though Jack could probably manage it – but it could be a perfect hidden carry, even though that's obviously not what it's for. 

"You had this made?"

Teal'c inclines his head. "By the most skilled weaponsmith in the Free Jaffa Nation." 

Jack _grins._ "Thanks, T."

"Sam?" Daniel looks up at her, at the box in her hands. She smiles down at him and unwraps the last layers of paper from her gift.

When she first touches it, it takes her a moment to realise what it reminds her of – and then she does, and she stares at Teal'c in astonishment and delight, tears stinging behind her eyes.

Daniel puts his hand on her thigh, rubs his thumb lightly as if he's worried. "Sam?"

She lifts his hand to her lips, presses a reassuring kiss to the back of his knuckles before turning it palm up, gently straightening his fingers out flat. 

Because he's Daniel, he doesn't twitch his hand away - not even when Jack whistles quietly at the sight of the short leather flogger she's holding. The bundle of tails are slim and flat, black leather, not much more than six inches long and buttery-soft; the grip is a deep forest green, flat braided and smooth to hold, comfortably long enough for her hand - or Jack's, she realises, a slow smile spilling onto her lips.

It feels light and sturdy, neatly balanced; she has no doubt it's as hand crafted as Jack's knife. She drapes the tails over Daniel's open hand and strokes, very gently, across his palm and down the length of his fingers…

He blinks, shivers, smiles. "Feels like my collar."

"Yeah, it does." The collar she made. She looks sharply at Teal'c. "Did you-?"

He gives her that serene smile of his. "Indeed."

There's a lump in her throat. "Teal'c, I…" What does she even say? "It's perfect. They're all perfect. Thank you." She twines her fingers through Daniel's, glances at Jack even though she doesn't need to make it a question for either of them. "Would you mind… if we stayed here tonight?"

Teal'c smiles. "I would be honored. In fact, I believe I would be relieved."

"Team sleepover." Jack relaxes beside her with a grin. "You're a genius," he says, kisses her lightly and starts unlacing his boots.

  


* * *

  


They sleep bundled up together in Teal'c's bed, all four of them – it's not exactly roomy, but then they don't exactly get a lot of sleep. Jack takes the left side and Sam climbs entirely on top of him, her head tucked under his chin and her legs between his. She manages to find a position that means she can still see Teal'c, stretched out with his ankles crossed on the right side of the bed; and Daniel settled in between the three of them, his head on Teal'c's broad thigh and his fingers tangled with both hers and Jack's in the center of them all.

This far under the mountain there's no telling what time it really is, when her watch and cell are across the room and Teal'c's shoulder is blocking any view of the alarm clock. Sam finds it weirdly comforting: there's a literal timelessness about this one night, this last night, that just feels right. Maybe she can just lie here with them forever, talking about everything and nothing just as if they're back around any of a hundred campfires together.

They do sleep, in the end: she's missing an hour or two, and suddenly there's a blanket draped loosely over her and Jack that she doesn't remember happening. Daniel is cuddled up in the most bizarre pose, so much that she laughs quietly the moment her eyes open and he's right there.

Teal'c blinks at her, instantly awake – of course – and looks down. She sees the amusement cross his face but the affection, too, and the softness in her own smile isn't entirely for Daniel.

"Daniel." Jack's thigh is resting a little heavily on the hand she has curled around it. She tugs it free, flexes her fingers out from under the blanket. "You can't be comfortable," she murmurs, half to herself, trailing her fingertips down his cheek. He stirs at her touch – but only enough to make a sleepy grab and nuzzle into her palm, and then she's stuck with her hand held there, his nose against the inside of her wrist and her fingertips traitorously curling under his jaw. 

"I believe he is," Teal'c rumbles quietly. Sam knows, in the way they all know these things of each other, that he doesn't just mean right here and right now.

She swallows the tears that just keep trying to show up. "I'm going to miss you, Teal'c," she says, and tries to put every ounce of love she has into the words.

"And I you," he says, his tone exactly the same.

"You'll come back to visit, right?"

"Indeed." A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "And you must come to Dakara as well."

"Of course we will." It isn't the end of things, she tells herself. It's just changing, that's all. "All the time."

  


* * *

  


The bracelet on Daniel's wrist glints in the soft light from the bedside lamp, stunning against the sweat-glow of his skin every time she sees it. It's been nearly three weeks now and while Sam is delighted by all the gifts she got to open this morning, still nothing stands up to that.

Daniel Jackson, brilliant and strong and sexy, sweet and funny, unashamedly as kinky as she is and just as much of a geek. Willingly and happily bound by his spread ankles to their bed, wearing the promise that he belongs to her and to Jack locked around his wrist.

She strokes her fingers back up his spine towards her, and even so lightly it's enough to make him tremble and sob. That mix of pain and pleasure, anticipation and desperation and just pure _need_ is the most incredible thing to hear, even now after this long. She can't imagine ever getting enough of it, of him.

Of them, because the beauty of this is always as much Jack as it is Daniel. A confident hand holding the cane that's leaving raw, red marks on Daniel's skin; a calm, coaxing voice between the sobs and cries; dark eyes and naked skin and he's been hard for an hour, just from taking Daniel so far down like this.

The cane starts tapping again, light and quick, across the high point of Daniel's raised ass that's already bright, paddled scarlet and striped with a perfectly placed set of rising welts travelling down the back of his thighs; a testament to Jack's skill and Daniel's need. Sam doesn't do pain quite the same way as he does, always prefers long and aching to sudden and sharp, but she can't doubt how good it is when she can see him so utterly pulled apart like this.

Jack taps across one particularly hot stripe of skin and Daniel's breath hitches, another sob torn out of him. She's close enough that his head is between her knees, his arms bound wrist to elbow above him to take some weight as he needs it; and so Sam spreads her fingers wide between his shoulder blades, rubs her thumb against his skin.

"Shh, relax, sweetheart. Shh, you're all right, you're doing so well."

Daniel whimpers and turns his head back to face her, where she's settled slightly off center from him the better to see what Jack's doing. " _Please,_ Sam..."

"Shh, we're here," she murmurs, stroking his hair with the other hand. "We've got you, you're right there, let go, we've got you."

The tears are streaked down his cheeks and shining wet in the low light. "Please, _please_ don't stop, please don't stop-" Jack switches perfectly on cue from those little taps to a long, sharp _smack_ so hard that the cane whistles in the air, and Daniel finally lets out a real, full, utterly visceral scream. " _Ahhh_ please _please sir_ please _,_ please _, please-_ "

A second whistle, and _smack,_ and even those babbled words give way to just wrecked sobbing and open tears. 

"God, Daniel." Jack's voice is like rough, hot gold. Just the sound of it makes her tingle all over, he's so proud and amazed and openly aroused. "Look at you, so fucking gorgeous. So good for us. Letting us give you all this, and you're taking it so well."

Daniel whimpers, wordless and shaking, so obviously waiting for the next wicked bite of the cane on skin that has to be throbbing with heat already. 

When Jack gives it to him, loud and swift and targeted right across his sit spot, he screams again and buries his face in the sheets to just _cry._ Sam honestly thinks he's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

"Oh, _Daniel_." His name comes off her tongue almost a gasp, full of the love and wonder that's star-bright inside her. "Our beautiful, beautiful boy," she whispers, lets her hand run along his forearm to rest, just gently, over the bracelet on his wrist. Even that's enough to dislodge a shuddering breath from his chest, his forehead pressing down into the tear-stained sheets. "You belong to us, you're ours, you'll always be ours. We love you so much."

"So fucking much," Jack echoes, stroking the cane over the marks he's made. They're going to set in deep, she can tell – Jack hasn't drawn blood, but at least two are right on the edge. Daniel's most intimate Christmas gift, that only they can give him. "You're ours, Daniel. _Always._ "

Daniel sobs, raw and broken open. " _Jack..._ "

God, the way he looks when Daniel breathes his name like that. It takes her own breath away. He's so, so good at this, so much what Daniel needs, it's like watching the most elegant equation balance in front of her eyes. 

"What do you need?" The cane comes to rest lightly across the small of his back – a safe spot that Daniel knows, even when he's this deep, isn't going to hurt. "You need more," Jack murmurs, that molten coaxing voice. "You need it to hurt some more?"

Daniel whines and sobs and nods desperately into the sheets.

Jack looks at her and she could just fall into his eyes. It's no wonder every other version of herself she's ever met has loved one or both of them, even if it wasn't exactly like this. She can't imagine feeling like this about anyone else, ever. 

"Anything you want." She watches him graze his fingertips down the length of Daniel's ass and thigh, so slow and light, across every single hot red stripe in turn. Daniel whimpers, twitches like he doesn't know whether he wants to flinch away or push back for more. Jack just smiles – that strong, softly fierce smile, the look that made her understand right from the start, right from her core, what _dominant_ means. "Whatever you want," he says, softer, moves his hand just right to ease his thumb between Daniel's glowing cheeks. "Why don't we put something inside you, hmm? Fuck you nice and hard, does that sound good?"

Daniel shudders, sinks his chest down into the bed with a long tremulous breath of pure _want._ "Oh, _please..._ "

"We can do that." Jack grins at her, hot and erotic. "Can't we, Sam?"

It wasn't on the agenda, but as if she's ever going to say no. She smiles back at him, strokes Daniel's neck above the familiar leather of his collar. "Whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything at all."

"…'nd," Daniel mumbles into the bed. She shoots Jack a look, but he shakes his head a little in a shrug; she sinks her fingers into Daniel's hair instead, leans down and kisses the back of his head. 

"What?" she murmurs, strokes him soothingly. "Go on, sweetheart, tell us."

Daniel's breath is trembling; she can feel him still crying under her hands. "Want your hand," and it's unsteady, but soft and pleading and hopeful; he sounds floaty just from saying it.

Jack rubs a thumb deep between his cheeks, grazing across his hole. "Inside you?"

Daniel nods into the bed, like he's too far down to look up at either of them. "Yes, sir..."

"Perfect boy," Jack says, brushes that slow caress over his ass and thighs again. "My perfect boy. Sam, grab me the right lube?"

She's leaning back and reaching for the nightstand already, way ahead of him. Daniel _moans_ , soft and long and sweet. " _Sir,_ thank you, sir…"

He shivers as Jack lifts the cane carefully from his skin, settles again instantly when it's just replaced with both of Jack's hands, rubbing all over his striped ass and thighs. It has to hurt, even that sure but gentle touch, and that's how she knows he's really ready for what he's asking – when all he does now is arch into it as if it's the best feeling in the world.

"I'm going to _take_ you," Jack says, heat and pride in his voice. "You're gonna relax this gorgeous ass and let me take you, aren't you?"

"Yes sir," Daniel breathes.

"Good boy." Jack keeps stroking as she uncaps the bottle – the bigger bottle, the thickest lube they have, just for when Daniel needs driving deep like this – and holds it out, a question that doesn't need her to actually speak. Jack flashes her _that_ smile again and parts Daniel's buttocks in invitation.

He moans again at the dribble of lube onto his skin. She watches it run down between his cheeks, Jack's thumbs slide inward to work it around his hole; waits until he's sopping with it and then a little longer before she stops, and sets the bottle down close enough for Jack to grab it when he needs.

"You know the pace," Jack says, just a quiet reminder. "Nice and slow, so you can feel everything I give you. You're going to relax and take it, and I'll get my hand so deep you're gonna feel me all the way to Atlantis."

Daniel whimpers so beautifully at that. " _Please,_ yes, sir." 

"That's what you want." Jack doesn't make it a question because he doesn't have to. "I know you do, it's okay. It's okay." He meets her eyes, two fingers starting to press and dip inside Daniel's body, just enough to open him up. "It's okay, you're okay, you've got us," as his fingers ease in. There's no resistance at all, she can see it, and there's so much approval in Jack's voice. "Oh, yeah. Good boy. It'll get intense soon, I promise."

" _Jack,_ " Daniel breathes out, his voice even softer now, and she hears tears in it again. " _Sam…_ "

"I know, sweetheart. We know." If she could give him this feeling to hold onto forever, she'd do it in a heartbeat. 

What she can do is touch him, so she does. Cards her fingers through his hair, strokes across the flushed skin of his shoulders, down his back. Rubs her palms down his biceps and then inward along his bound arms, and back out; gently spreads his fingers to let her own slip between them, just as Jack's work deep inside him. 

Daniel's still sobbing a little, but not hard now, just soft and quiet and yielding completely under their hands. His face is still pressed into the bed, sighing out pleasure each time Jack gets all the way in and scissors those two fingers on the out stroke.

The third finger makes him moan, deep and sweet; by the time Jack's little finger is sliding in, beyond slippery with added lube, he's turned toward her making those perfect broken-open little noises again and Sam wishes she could record this because _god_ , what she wouldn't give. They've never done that – of all the risks to take, it's always seemed too daring – but she's going to think about it again when Daniel's not sunk so deep he'd do anything they ask regardless. When she's lying alone in Nevada, in a bed they've never seen, to close her eyes and hear the way Daniel sounds with Jack's whole hand about to fit inside him…

"That's it," Jack says, voice gone rough and loving and _decadent_. "Nearly there, Danny, little bit more now," and Daniel just breathes, floaty, a few more tears silently running down his face.

"Yes sir… thank you, sir… so good… oh, _Jack_ …"

If he's beautiful when Jack's caning him, then right now she doesn't even have words. It's hard to even think, watching and hearing them like this. Daniel's skin is warm under her stroking hands, shoulders sunk right down into the bed and ass canted up so eagerly, so deep into his headspace there's no tension in him at all; Jack works his wrist once more, pushes just a little harder, and she'd know that's the moment even if she couldn't see it in front of her eyes.

A liquid moan of, " _ohhh…_ " is all the sound Daniel makes as Jack's knuckles finally open him up enough, as his bruised and reddened ass suddenly, eagerly takes the whole hand Jack's giving him right up past the knob of his wrist. 

"Good boy," Jack murmurs, so deep it's practically a purr. "You did that so easily for me, didn't you? Look at you with my fist inside you, how good does that feel?"

Daniel moans again, such a sweet sound. "Oh _god,_ so good… _so_ good…" Jack slowly, slightly turns his wrist and he trembles all over, whines low and full of pleasure. " _Oh,_ oh, _oh_ …"

Jack chuckles, glances at her with blazing eyes. "So easy to find, with five fingers in there," he says, over Daniel's soft gasp as those fingers start to work against that one perfect spot inside him. "There you go, right there."

" _Oh…_ thank you, sir…" She can _hear_ the pleasure wash over him. "Please…"

"Shh, sweetheart." She strokes his hair tenderly. "Let Jack take care of you, he's got you. We've got you."

"Sam…" Her name is just an unsteady breath, hitching on Jack's fingers, and it makes her smile. 

"I'm here, shh." She threads her fingers between his, his bracelet against the inside of her wrist; rests her other hand on the back of his collar and just holds him gently as he moans and trembles on Jack's hand inside him. Jack isn't pulling back out at all – just giving little twists of his wrist that slowly work his hand _deeper_ , and must be grinding at least a knuckle or two right into Daniel's prostate from those pleading, pleasure-filled sounds. 

"Do you want to come?" He's wearing the tight steel ring that's their usual choice for really hard impact play, that always stops him coming, but she'll happily take it off for him at this point if he wants it. 

She's still not surprised at the wordless little noise that so obviously means _no._ She almost wishes he wasn't hard, that she could slip his cage on for him and freeze this moment for them all; trap him inside this feeling like amber for however long it takes to bring him back home. 

Jack smiles, fond and a little amused, shakes his head as he looks at her – as his smile twists gently into something else, gentle but speculative.

"How long, Daniel?" His wrist shifts, twists, pushes; Daniel mewls. "How long until you get to come again?"

Her own breath catches at that, half at just the thought and half at how in sync Jack's mind is with hers right now. They don't have to hold him to anything he promises now, and they won't, but she thinks he'd do it. She thinks he'd want to.

" _Sir,_ " is all Daniel gets out, almost a purr of his own. It's hardly coherent, and yet it's an answer just the same.

"Until you call us from Atlantis?" Jack's eyes are full of that dark pleasure of his own: she can't look away if she even wanted to try. "Or until you get home?"

Daniel's breathing shakes with tears all over again. "H-home," he whispers, almost a sob of relief. Jack's smile blossoms into a feral grin.

"You said it, Danny." He pushes a little more, slow and steady: he's so gentle, for doing something so intense, and even though she's seen it before she's still in awe of how much Daniel can take. Jack's forearm is halfway inside him and still stretching him open but Daniel's just breathing through it, each breath in the softest gasp and each exhale a shuddering sigh. "Go on, tell us."

"I-I won't come until… until I'm… until I'm home…"

Jack puts his free hand back on Daniel's ass cheek, palm and fingers spread across the raw beaten skin. "Where's home?"

Daniel sobs, voice still soft but breathless at Jack's touch, the words tumbling out. " _Here,_ with you, _with you_ – I won't, I promise…"

She meets Jack's eyes as she asks it, as Jack pushes just a little bit more. "Why not?"

He doesn't even hesitate. "I'm _yours,_ I-I want…" She can hear how close he is to losing that last scrap of control, when he can't even find the words for this. "I don't want…"

"Shhh." She strokes her thumb over his. "You're ours. You don't come if we're not there."

Daniel nods into the sheets. She's not sure if he hears Jack's quiet groan, but she doesn't miss it.

"God," he mutters. " _Daniel._ "

" _Jack…_ " He turns his head toward her, though she's not sure he can see her clearly through the still-silent tears and the thick haze of pleasure in his eyes. " _Sam…_ "

"He's so far inside you," she murmurs, amazed, stroking his cheek. "You're beautiful, Daniel. Can you feel how deep Jack's inside you?"

He moans and nods again, leaning his face into her hand. His lips are softly parted, wet with tears and tongue: when she touches them with her thumb he opens wide, right as Jack finds the limit and his whimper has the wrong kind of pain in it for just a moment.

"Shhhh, easy, that's it," Jack murmurs, backs off that last millimeter, still soothing and stroking across the ladder of welts. "There you are, _such_ a good boy for me. How fucking _open_ you are for me. You're gonna feel this for so fucking long." 

Daniel moans, sweet and bright, his tongue flicking out to her thumb on his lips, and there's nothing she can do but give him that to suck on and help him fall.

  


* * *

  


Of all the things that are going to be hardest to leave, the biggest is that Daniel's always such a cuddler. Off-world if it's even a degree too cold, he'll roll over and snuggle up, whether it's her or Jack or Teal'c it hardly matters. Coming down off the nerd-high of a breakthrough at work, he'll hold on happily as if he's earned the reward. When he's hurt it's a comfort, when he's tired it sends him quietly to sleep. After sex and even more so after a scene, he just openly needs the contact to ground him and put him back together. 

Right now he's _wrecked_ as Jack's knuckles finally pull back out of him, the slow slow slow withdraw and then the sudden stretch and release; he shudders, starts to shake even before Jack has his legs free, but Sam's ready right there and waiting to hold him up.

"Shhhh, come here," is all she says, opens her arms for him and draws him not just close but right on top of her. The tremors ease some, more when she kisses his forehead and murmurs the question she doesn't really need to ask. "Too empty?"

He nods, sobs helplessly, but Jack's already there; she can't feel his hands but she can feel their work, in the way Daniel moans with gratitude and relief as whatever plug Jack's managed to grab slips easily into him. It won't be the overwhelming stretch she knows he still wants, but Jack's obviously picked well enough to help him settle.

"There you go, much better." Jack gives her a tender, tired smile – _you're amazing, both of you –_ and presses a kiss to the small of Daniel's back as he slides to his feet. She smiles back at him – _I got him, take your time –_ and reaches down.

With the ring holding it back and nothing but Jack's fist for the last hour, he's still hard, and she's so goddamned wet from watching that he slides into her with no resistance at all. She wraps her legs around his hips, strokes her hands over his back and into his hair, holds him down against her and lets him bury his face between her breasts. 

"Shh, sweetheart, just relax now. I've got you right here." She clenches down around his cock, slow and deliberate; he sighs, nuzzles at her skin, hips rocking almost lazily into hers. "Mmm, does that feel good?"

"You feel good," he murmurs, almost slurred, mouth warm and wet on her breast. "Mmm… you always feel so good, Sam…"

"So do you," she assures him, because _god,_ he does. He fits her perfectly, inside and out, and she'd keep him just like this forever if she could. It isn't that hot, intense tidal wave of pleasure when he's fucking her; this is just soft and warm and _endless_ , just physical joy.

"Wanna come?" He murmurs it languidly into her skin, so simple that she smiles.

"No, not really. I'd rather just hold you." She thinks he might pass out if they actually try; she just put him inside her to hold him, in every possible way she has. She strokes his hair tenderly. "But thank you for the offer."

"'m gonna miss you," he murmurs, drowsy but so sad. 

She swallows tightly. "I know. Me too. Don't think about it right now, okay? Just let me hold you."

"Mmm." He sighs softly, a warm puff of air across her skin. "Yes, Sam."

Tears sting behind her eyes. "You're so good," she whispers, tries not to sound like she wants to cry. "You're perfect, Daniel. I'm so proud that you're ours."

"Always," he whispers back. Lifts his head just to press a kiss into her skin, between her breasts, over her heart. His eyes are dark, completely unfocused and heavy-lidded; he looks so utterly relaxed and peaceful, somewhere beyond fucked out even when he's lying here still sheathed so deep inside her. "Always, _always_ yours."

She loves him so much it hurts. "My beautiful boy," she says, softly, and she's never meant it more. She can't imagine anything more beautiful than the sight and sound and feel of him right now. "I love you."

"Love you," Daniel murmurs, rubs his nose and cheek and mouth against her, feline and contented. "Love you. Love you, love you, love you..."

Jack's hand strokes along her thigh as he settles back beside them: leaves her knee and moves to Daniel's ass, from the way he sighs heavy and blissful.

"How's that feeling now?" Jack keeps his voice soft, smiling. "Feels pretty hot right there. You're gonna bruise so nicely for us this time."

"Mmm, yes sir." Daniel's nod is hardly more than another nuzzle against her. His hand gropes for no more than a second before Jack takes hold of it and kisses the pads of his fingers. Daniel strokes at Jack's face; she can see his fingers trembling. "Love you, love you, love you..."

Jack wraps his arms around them both, and Sam closes her eyes and just soaks them both in.


	9. 2005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _The Scourge_.
> 
> This is an explicit chapter, for anyone avoiding sexytiems, skim section 1 and stop after section 8.
> 
> Said section 8 is dedicated to BADFalcon. Merry Danielmas. :)

Sam gives very clear instructions to Cameron: pick up Teal'c, go to Walgreens with the list she emailed over, pick up the tree, don't arrive at the house without an offering of pastries. Good pastries. If Starbucks is also in the mix, so much the better.

Don't under any circumstances bother to arrive before midday.

It's not exactly his fault, she supposes. Cam is more of a puppy dog than Daniel ever was, she should have known the lure of decorating for his first team Christmas in Colorado would be too much to resist.

Jack's only been home since the previous evening, and it's the first time in three weeks: at eight a.m. they're still piled on top of him asleep when the alarm goes off, Daniel's reflexes a half second faster than hers to get there before _Last Christmas_ fills the room.

At eight thirty they're piled on him for an entirely different reason, Sam riding him with long, lazy rolls of her hips as Daniel fucks her just as slow from behind, his fingers play-fighting with Jack's to pinch her nipples and scrape down her sides and stroke her clit.

By nine the chest at the end of the bed is standing open in an empty room, the bed abandoned in favor of the couch and coffee to fuel the next round. Sam brews it strong enough to stand a spoon up in because she's too distracted by the sight and sound of Daniel fucking himself down onto Jack's freshly-re-awoken cock, whining happily with need at the pressure of the cage re-locked around his own. 

At just after ten, the doorbell rings.

Daniel looks up from where he's sprawled out along the length of the couch, still looking slightly dazed and more than slightly blissed out, naked except for the cage and his bracelet and collar with the leash coiling out from it into her hand. He's very deliberately not touching his cock, on Jack's orders, but it's still a little swollen and deep, deep red under the smooth nylon plastic; she doesn't have to ask or touch to know how incredibly sensitive he still is.

She's still wearing her collar too, but at least she's dressed, even if it's only a bra and panties under the long blue satin robe Jack bought her a few birthdays ago. "I'll get it," she says, leans down to drop a kiss onto his lips. "You look so pretty like that," she whispers wickedly into his mouth, unable to resist. 

She's never really said it until recently, but there's just no other word for it. The first cage they bought is steel, a simple ring design that he still wears, but this one is lighter and better for longer stretches, perfect for the way they've taken to playing since Jack's been away so much. It's just as confining, but in a dark blue plastic that almost matches his collar, with a filigree body – a repeating pattern of delicate four-pointed stars all the way from the ring behind the dark swell of his balls to the short, hollow sound pressed inside him, that soft reddened skin shining out through each one.

 _Pretty_. It really is, and she loves the way he groans when she says it. " _Sam…_ "

"Such a lovely color," she carries on, trails her fingers down the center of his chest towards his groin. "Hot, too, I bet."

"You could feel for yourself," he suggests, playful and lazy, with that gorgeous rough edge of arousal still under the words.

Jack drops the last box of decorations down beside the coffee table. "That the door?"

"I'm just going," she says, circling Daniel's navel with a lightly scratching fingernail, with absolutely no intention of moving. Jack chuckles.

"Sure, I can see that." He slides his arms around her, nuzzling the back of her neck. "Get distracted, did we?"

"Apparently," Daniel puts in, with a smirk that says he doesn't mind at all.

She grins down at him. "You just look so…"

"Edible?" Jack nibbles her earlobe. "Needy? Fucking hot?"

"Mmm," she agrees with all of them. _Pretty_ as he is, Daniel is all of those things too, especially right now like this. His skin is still flushed – not nearly as dark as his trapped cock, but with a definite warmth – and for all that he's been teased and fucked and frustrated out of even getting hard, he's close to languid and blatantly showing off in how he's stretched out for them both to see.

The door buzzes again, a little longer. Sam sighs with a roll of her eyes and peels Jack's hands from her waist, slips Daniel's leash over one instead.

"It's probably the mailman." She slips out of his arms and gives him a quick kiss. "I got it."

Of course, it's not the mailman.

  


* * *

  


"I informed you," Teal'c says again, with the voice of a man who did in fact do so – probably twice, at least, before he decided to just let experience do the teaching.

Cam is still redder than the Santa hat he's shown up in, and he can hardly even _look_ at Daniel.

Daniel, of course, is finding this too much fun not to poke the bear at least a little. Jack is even worse, and Sam… well, she did tell him. If now he knows that they both usually stay collared on a Saturday morning when Jack's home, or that Daniel's still wearing that cage under the sweats he dragged on in exchange for the offering of Starbucks…

She follows his gaze this time to see what's got Teal'c so amused – to Jack reeling Daniel in by the leash, stealing a sip of coffee from the red cup in his hand and putting his own sugar-coated fingers to Daniel's lips instead. Daniel grins and happily opens his mouth, holds Jack's wrist still and shamelessly licks the pastry crumbs from each finger, one by one by one. 

Cam promptly snorts what sounds like burning hot coffee up his nose. 

"You could have stayed not knowing, if you'd shown up when I told you to," she reminds him with a smirk. 

He coughs, eyes watering, voice hoarse. "S'fine, really. Fine."

Of course he's Cam, so he really does mean it because he's a sweet guy – and to his credit has always taken their lifestyle well in theory, if with a great helping of that Kansas farm-boy innocence. It's just a little too easy to unnerve him with something casual, even when he hasn't bounced energetically past her into their house and come almost literally face-to-face with both Daniel's suffering cock and Jack's extremely dirty mind and mouth. 

But he's coming for Christmas Day, so he's going to need to get used to them being _them_ – nakedness not withstanding – or Cass is going to eat him alive. So it's better just to let him stay and start on the decorating now, and maybe she just won't take her collar off today at all, which would be nice.

Plus he went to the really good place for pastries.

"Sure," she says. "You seem totally fine."

"Just not, y'know." Cam waves a hand. "Always used to… Stuff. Yet."

She does feel a _little_ bad, she'll admit. "I solemnly swear we'll be dressed when you arrive for Christmas."

"Or we just won't answer the door." Perched on the arm of the couch, Jack's looping bright blue tinsel through the lock of Daniel's collar and tying a neat, sparkly bow. "You get gold," he says, a length of it already in his hand, and crooks his finger at her. She grins and puts down her coffee.

"Yes sir."

Cam chokes quietly on his pain au raisin. Daniel grins unrepentantly, plastering himself up against her back – and rocking his hips, just a little, just enough that she feels the silent whimper he keeps in his throat.

"Feel good?" She murmurs it quietly, gentle rather than wicked.

"So good," he breathes in her ear. "So tight still."

"Good boy," Jack says, brushes a finger down his cheek. "You keep it that way, understood?"

Daniel hums, that happy little sound that only comes from being controlled and looked after like this. "Yes sir."

"Maybe do it in the bedroom, though," she teases. Daniel laughs.

"You're no fun."

She tips her chin up as Jack adjusts the ticklish, lurid gold bow he's tied to the O-ring of her collar. "I can be a lot of fun later, if you do as you're told."

Daniel grinds his hips into hers, nuzzles the back of her neck. "Mmmm, yes, Sam."

"Good boy," she echoes Jack, and squeezes his fingers. "Okay, you and Teal'c bring the tree in. Jack – fireplace. Cam – unpack the lights while I grab the step stool."

Jack flicks off a salute. "Yes, ma'am. SG-one, you heard the woman, move out!"

  


* * *

  


"So, are you gonna tell Landry about...?" From the top of the step stool, Cam glances down the length of multi-colored lights she's feeding out for him and waves his hand at her neck. "I mean, I'm getting the vibe that _dressed_ means a collar, right?"

He really is sweet, she thinks. It could so easily have been a repeat of Janet, even if they did catch him earlier - but while he's totally innocent of how their dynamic works, he's just as innocent of why there'd be anything at all to worry about. While it's less than a non-issue now, she can't imagine that much younger Janet suggesting they should tell General Hammond that they'll probably be on their knees at Christmas, if he happens to drop by.

"Yes." It's surprising how freeing it feels still having it on right now, talking to him. It's surprising that it's a surprise, too. "I mean, yes it does, and yes, Jack's going to have a talk with him."

"That's good." She must look curious, because he blushes even as he gives her a lop-sided smile. "You should be comfortable in your house, doesn't matter who's here," and he looks abashed enough that she knows it's an apology as much as he's second-guess-embarrassed to say it. 

She puts a hand on the stool and leans toward him, playfully conspiratorial. "It's okay if you approve," she stage-whispers with a reassuring smile.

Cam grins and reaches up to hook the next string of lights in place.

  


* * *

  


"More baubles," Jack declares firmly. 

Teal'c thrusts a garishly mismatched handful – a Teal'c-sized handful – of colors at him, with the same confidence and lack of hesitation he'd use to hand over an equally impressive pile of C-4. Jack grins.

"Excellent." He stretches up to start back at the top of the tree.

Sam leans back on the couch, puts her feet up on the coffee table, sips her virgin eggnog and admires the truly magnificent view of his ass.

"It's not _comfortable,_ though, right?" 

Behind her in the kitchen, she hears Daniel chuckle at Cam's question. Most likely at his tone, too: a little hesitant, but curious and trying to be bold about it. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

No hesitation and much more curious; Sam smirks to herself, wonders silently if they might actually have another Jonas on their hands, after all. 

"How long it's been on, what I'm wearing. Whether I'm allowed, mostly," Daniel admits, and Sam feels a rush of pride and delight and arousal. She'll never get enough of hearing him talk like that. Like he's happy and proud and so completely secure in himself, because he is. He's all of those things.

It's what they wanted, forever ago when Jack first took control for him and somehow it _helped_. They knew even less than Cam themselves, back then, she thinks idly. She could never have thought they'd get here, but she couldn't be happier that they did. 

"Oh," Cam says – and then, " _oh._ Wow, man, that's…"

"Incredible," Daniel says, closer behind her. His hand touches her shoulder; she reaches up to cover it with hers and tilts her head back to look up at him. She doesn't have to ask if he's being good for them when she can see how relaxed he is, especially not when he smiles down at her. "Really. Incredible."

  


* * *

  


This time when the doorbell rings, it actually is who she's expecting – the pizza boy, laden with boxes enough that Sam's still sure they're going to be eating leftovers tomorrow. 

Oh well. There's worse Sunday breakfast than reheated meat feast.

She pays the kid and gives him a generous tip from Jack's wallet, balancing the boxes carefully as she kicks the door shut and turns back around –

At the other end of the hall, Teal'c gracefully bends the all of two inches difference in height between himself and a fairy-light-entangled Cam, and kisses him lightly but warmly on the mouth.

Sam manages not to drop lunch only because she spots the sprig of mistletoe in time to grin and not just stare in surprise: Cam, right below it, doesn't. She's pretty sure Teal'c just blew out every light bulb in his brain when he doesn't even seem to think to look up.

"We've been missing out all these years." Jack grins at her from the living room, past Cam's zat-stunned expression. "Who knew T was that good?"

"You are also welcome to join me in your suspended vegetation ritual," Teal'c says calmly - like he doesn't know _precisely_ what mistletoe is and why and hasn't been subjected to Jack's penchant for hanging it everywhere for years - and then takes the stack of pizzas from her and turns to the kitchen. 

"Ritual," Cam says, dumbly. 

Sam giggles, put a steadying hand on his shoulders as she passes by. "I'd move if I were you," she teases, and takes pity on him with just a soft peck on the cheek before she points up.

  


* * *

  


"I think Cam's good," Daniel murmurs sleepily into Jack's chest. 

"Well he's not bad," Jack mutters, clearly not actually listening, sounding half asleep already. 

"You think he liked having Teal'c kiss him?"

"I think you're a terrible matchmaker, don't even try it."

Sam huffs with amusement without bothering to open her eyes, just shifts her hand back to Daniel's mussed hair and rubs her nose against the back of Jack's neck. "Honestly, I think his brain shorted out." She scratches her fingertips lightly over Daniel's scalp. "Besides, you know Teal'c isn't Tau'ri-sexual." 

Jack snorts. "You're not using that one at Scrabble."

"It'd never make it into Miriam-Webster," Daniel agrees, but he does hum with obvious pleasure at her fingers. "Mmmm, that's nice…"

"Good." She puts her smile against Jack's skin. "Go to sleep, you need your rest."

"Only because you won't let me have a minute's peace."

"You'll get peace on Christmas Day, not before," Jack murmurs. "Now go to sleep, or I'm gonna play with your cock all over again."

Daniel sighs happily and snuggles down even closer, and Sam's barely dozing before his breath evens out into sleep under her hand.

  


* * *

  


"How do you think it's going?"

Curled in the armchair across from her, Daniel looks up from his book and tilts his head. "No shouting," he says speculatively. "And I haven't heard any gunshots."

"We're probably not fired," she agrees. He's stroking his bracelet absently with his thumb: it makes her smile. "I put everything out in the bedroom for you," she says, just as conversationally. 

Daniel smiles. "You're too good to me."

"You're mine, I'm allowed." That sense of _something feels off_ has been radiating from him since Jack took his collar off after breakfast, of course she wants to fix it for him as soon as she can. Maybe it'll turn out that Landry is a secret kink aficionado, gets the dynamic entirely, and it'll all be just fine… but it's tempting fate to hope so.

Daniel chuckles, closing the book in his lap. "I might make coffee. Peace offering."

"We don't know there's a war yet." But she's not going to protest coffee, or getting to watch Daniel stand up and stretch the way he does – a full, slow stretch up that pulls the slate-grey t-shirt tight across his chest and reveals a tantalising strip of skin just the right width for her tongue, not to mention shows the outline of his cage for just a moment before he relaxes back down. 

Well, between Jack outside explaining their private lives to her boss, and _that_ , she's not getting anything more written on this chapter for a while.

She saves her latest draft on the laptop and follows him into the kitchen, daring enough to spoon herself up behind him as he preps the coffee pot. Daniel has a very particular routine – specific size spoon, measure the grounds just so, start the water boiling next – that's as meditative to watch as it is for him to do. It's not the most efficient step-by-step, but she knows it's from decades of doing the same thing – learned in a cramped, cluttered student kitchen as a teenage caffeine virgin – so she can let that go and just enjoy knowing this intimate little part of him so well.

At least Landry knows they're together already. Jack staying here on his trips home – and that he still thinks of it as _home,_ too; Daniel moving in here after his aborted Atlantis trip rather than bother with a new apartment; her moving back in on coming back from Nevada… they weren't exactly subtle about it, even without the knowledge that Jack's Harley is parked next to her Indian in the garage and Daniel's coffee accoutrements litter the kitchen. 

"You realise this is our first Christmas actually living together?" She kisses the back of his bare neck, only just resisting the urge to let her mouth linger and explore. 

He pauses, like he actually hasn't. "That doesn't seem right," he admits, on a soft laugh, and she smiles in agreement. In some small, private, secret part of her, they've been living together since the day she opened her eyes on their bedroom in Minnesota: they just spend a lot of time elsewhere.

"I've loved you forever," she murmurs in his ear, nuzzling into his neck. Daniel shivers, though she can hear his smile.

"Nine years isn't forever," he teases, stirring the cafetiere.

"Between every whole number is an infinity of numbers," she replies, easily. "That's nine infinities. That's pretty much forever."

Daniel makes a soft noise, his voice dropping low and full of emotion. "Oh my god, did you just make _math_ romantic?"

She laughs. "Maybe."

He turns his head and kisses her, sweet and slow. "You're such a nerd."

"I'm writing a quantum physics textbook," she reminds him, grinning into his mouth. "Five minutes until that's brewed?"

He fits the lid on, taps the glass. "Mm, just about."

"Good." She cups her hand firmly around his cock.

He actually _jumps_ , and she giggles delightedly into the crook of his neck. "Mmmm, shh, relax."

" _Christ,_ Sam." He swallows hard, she feels it against her lips even as he does as he's told, deliberate relaxation in the way he lets his body rest against hers. She presses her fingers in harder, rubs her thumb firmly enough that she can just make out where there's skin through his jeans and briefs, exposed by the open pattern of the plastic. 

Daniel hums, quiet and pained and happy. "They could come back inside any minute."

"They won't see." It's not as if they're fucking on the kitchen island. Jack might take one look and make an educated guess at where her hand is, but at worst Landry sees her cuddled sweetly up to a lover while they make coffee. And the beauty is, she can play with him as much as she likes – nothing's going to show even if he has to turn around. "I love this on you," she murmurs, rubs her thumb over the top arch of it, where it circles the base of his cock. "How many days are we at now?"

"Aside from the Gamma Site, two weeks." 

"Mmmm." She can't help just indulging in the memory for a moment – _a freshly showered Daniel in the team locker room, coming to her with the cage in his hand and a "please, Sam," on his lips._ _The softness of worn towelling between her fingers when she opened his robe, the way he stood there trusting and exposed and patient as she locked him back up just the way she'd unlocked him before they gated out._

Two weeks, not counting those few days that they never count – not that it's not practically still there on a mission like that, if he's in the right headspace and things are hectic enough. She giggles again, squeezes him tight and feels him twitch, hears that beautiful little gasp.

" _Oh_ … What's funny?"

"I was just thinking, if the IOA knew exactly how you manage to be so _focused_ at work…"

Daniel snorts. "I'd rather not. What if they wanted oversight there, too?"

She laughs and squeezes harder. Her fingertips press into the underside of his balls, digging the seam of his jeans between them. "Let them try. This," she clenches her fingers hard enough to make him almost stumble, "is _mine,_ and Jack's, and that's _all_." 

Daniel whimpers, a wordless and utterly submissive agreement that makes her feel a hundred feet tall. He's close to just tipping his head back and melting against her, she can feel it. Though that might be a little too obvious for having their boss potentially walk in any minute...

"Do I smell coffee?"

Daniel groans at the sound of Landry's voice, and that's absolutely a muttered, anguished, " _fuck,_ " as she moves her hand and casually turns around, just as if she hasn't been fondling his cock roughly enough that he must be aching.

"Daniel's idea," she says cheerfully. "It should just about be brewed by now, I think."

  


* * *

  


To his credit, Landry only does a single double-take when Sam walks into the crowded, paper-strewn living room with her collar on. Jack flashes her a silent smile from across the kitchen, softly proud and affectionate. 

"Sam!" Cass hops up from the couch and gives her a fast, fierce hug. "You look good," she whispers. Sam grins and loops an arm around her to hug her back.

"Thanks." Not that she and Janet haven't been here since last night and she hasn't been collared the whole time, but she knows what Cassie's doing. Whether it's as blatant to Cam or Landry as it is to her, she still appreciates it. 

Janet hands her a glass of red with a telling smile. She feels warm as she smiles back and takes a sip.

"Oh, that's nice." It's rich and fruity, smooth on her tongue. 

"Oh?" Jack snakes an arm around her waist and hooks his fingers over hers on the glass. If they were alone he'd just have grabbed her and kissed the next sip right out of her mouth; instead she lets him move her hand to take a mouthful of his own. "Mm, you're developing a pretty good palette there, T."

Teal'c toasts them from the couch where Cassie's re-joined him and if Sam's judging correctly, might finally be close to beating him at senet. "I find the flavor most satisfying."

The set they're playing with is the same one Cass roundly trounced Daniel on this morning; the same one Sam bought him for his first Christmas back on Earth, small enough to travel with, the board and pieces all carved from deep green malachite. She makes a mental note to suggest they get Cass her own set next year, if she's playing enough to start holding her own against the two best players on the planet – at least using the original 3000BC rules.

She leans comfortably into Jack's arm around her. "Anything left to prep?"

"Nope. Just waiting on the beep." He hugs her closer, nuzzling playfully into her neck. The kiss he presses against the side of her collar is subtle enough that she doesn't think anyone else sees, but it's definitely there. "Thank you," he whispers, right in her ear, quieter even than Cassie. 

She gives him a look, keeps her own voice low and light. "What for?"

He raises an eyebrow, flicks the O-ring of her collar lightly with a fingertip. She feels herself blush, ducks her head with a smile – not at all because she's wearing it, but because she even had to _ask_. 

Jack grins, long enough for her to see it before he turns hot lips back to her ear. "I love you. My good girl, wearing my collar – god, I'm so fucking proud of you, Sam." 

She can hear the roughness in his voice. It's the same feeling that's put the lump in her own throat, making it hard to even whisper back – so she touches his face and turns him toward her, kisses him with all the love she can't put into words.

It's not as if it's the first time anyone here has seen this side of her, except for Landry. She just doesn't show it as often as Daniel does, or she hasn't before now – before this last year, when it's been so strange having Jack away so much and she's wanted it so sharply whenever he's back. It's almost like that first intense year all over again, after Jolinar, after they first worked out how to make submission work so beautifully for her, too; after they managed to prove she could really have what she'd been aching for all her life.

"I love you," she does manage to whisper, back into Jack's mouth, smiles mischievously against his lips. "Sir."

Nine years, practically forever, and she can still have everything and anything she wants just by asking. She doesn't know how the hell she got this lucky.

  


* * *

  


Daniel is flushed red and breathing fast and laughing: Jack's grin is brighter than the tree behind him, pure playfulness sparkling in his eyes.

"How's that feeling, Daniel?"

He gets a shaky moan in reply. "Amazing – _oh_ ," as the vibration she can just faintly feel through his body rises up even higher. "Please, sir, please, Sam, please let me come, I'll make it good, I'll come so hard for you, I swear…"

"Mmmm, I don't know…" She smiles beatifically down at him and sinks down again, spreading her knees wider and arching her back proudly at Jack's stifled groan. 

She's damn sure they make a glorious picture right now, one he's crafted so well her skin was singing before he even let her move; she feels like she's performing for him, and it's as fun as it is intoxicating. The front door was barely closed before he had his favorite soft lavender-grey rope in hand – she doesn't even remember him telling her to strip, but he definitely didn't complain and she got the most perfect reward. The hishi karada expertly tied around her torso is just tight enough, presses gently into her skin with every breath, and it feels like Jack's fingers all over her even though he's just _watching…_ especially the doubled length of rope tight between her legs, nestled perfectly either side of her sex and spreading her open, a delightful friction that's just _not quite_ in the right place…

"I do," Jack says, a hot grin in his voice. "I think you need to beg like that some more," and Daniel either laughs or moans, it's too tangled together to tell.

He's gorgeous, spread out on the rug beneath her, between her thighs in just his bracelet and collar and cage, his skin colored by the sparkle of fairy lights and his eyes bright with joy whenever he opens them to look at her. His leash is wrapped tight around her hand as she rides him, at least as much as she can when he can't get hard: instead she's just sliding and rocking and smearing herself all over him, angling his cock up with her free hand and rubbing the swollen, plugged head between those teasing ropes, up and down and all around her clit… 

She's honestly not sure who's going to explode first, but it's going to be a very close thing.

" _Please,_ " Daniel whimpers, easy and honest, shameless and smiling back up at her. " _Please_ , Sam, I'll do anything, I'll do anything you want, please let me come – oh god, _please_ let me come…" Either something moves or Jack turns the vibration up, because he bucks suddenly under her and gasps, groaning. "Fuck, fuck, please let me come _please_ let me come please please _please_ …"

She's so ready, too – if she arches just _so_ , the ropes go just a _little_ tighter, the single pleasure knot Jack let her have presses almost _into_ her ass…

"Oh god, Sam, god, yes, do that," Daniel gasps, and it's that tone of utter wonder as if they're in the cartouche chamber on Abydos, the same tone he still has after all these years. "My god, look at you, you're so _beautiful_ – please let me come for you, _please_ let me come for you…"

God, she'd _love_ to have him come for her right now. She rubs the head of his cock harder against her clit. It's a slightly odd but heady mix of hard plastic and soft hot skin, and whatever he feels in return makes even words fade into a whine, soft and sweet, drawn out and desperate. 

"Oh yeah," Jack groans. "How you doing, Sam?"

"I want you," comes out of her mouth without even thinking. She's so _wet_ , he'd just slide right in, she knows it."Come and fuck me, it's Christmas."

Daniel laughs breathlessly, straining under her. She can see the tension in his arms, bound behind his head; his hands would be all over her, too, if he were allowed, she knows it. "Oh yeah, _yes_ – oh god, yes," it turns from pleading to pleased as Jack presses up behind her, broad hands joining the ropes caressing her skin. "You're so beautiful," and Daniel's voice is suddenly _intense,_ that deep softness in his eyes and the way he smiles. "I love you both, I love you so much."

"Mmm, maybe we'll let you come after all," Jack purrs, in her ear but loud enough for Daniel to hear. "Move a little, like," his fingers slip under the rope low around on her waist, angle her hips, "yeah, just like that," and then he really is just sliding into her as easily as she thought. "Mmmm, Sam…"

She arches back against his chest, grinding back into him as he starts a rhythm of long, slow strokes out and back into her, driving deep every time. It feels delicious, and then he's sucking hard right _there_ in the curve of her neck and she starts trembling, the pleasure so bright it goes right to her clit.

"Oh, Jack…"

He grins, she can feel it, his teeth on her skin. "Harder?"

He knows her so well. "Yes, please."

He sucks sharply, so hard she gasps – even without teeth it's going to mark her. "Make Daniel come." It's not loud, but it's loud enough, and it's absolutely an order. Daniel whimpers under her, whines when she pulls on his leash, grips his tortured cock even harder, rubs him faster against her clit. He's _straining_ to get hard even still caged by now, swollen so tight there's no room inside at all and that prettiest of patterns is pressing deep into his most sensitive skin. There's no way it doesn't _hurt_ , not that she can't tell that from the distinct way he sounds every time she strokes him with tight fingers.

" _Sam…_ oh, please, make me come, make me come for you…" 

"You want it off?" Jack's hands roam up to her breasts, cup and squeeze, thumbs seeking her nipples and dragging another moan out of her. She wonders, in that sex-haze that makes her almost giggle, if he was always this good at multi-tasking or they're just good practice. "Sam can take it off." Something tickles her skin, from over her shoulder; the key to Daniel's cage, hanging on a ball chain around Jack's neck. 

She fumbles the end of the leash into his hand instead, which draws another happy moan from Daniel's throat; when she reaches up and wraps her fist around his key he bucks under her again.

"Oh, _fuck…_ "

"You like that?" Jack sucks what must be another mark onto her neck, fast and hard, on that perfect edge of pain. "Like seeing that? Sam holding your key for me?"

Daniel's just whimpering with every breath, his hips rocking, into her fingers still on his cock. "Yes, _sir_."

"You've done great, you know." He's still holding Daniel's leash as he hooks his fingers into the rope on both sides of her waist. "You've been good for us for nearly a month, you realise that?"

Daniel moans helplessly. "Oh god… _please_ , Jack, please-"

"Tell me you want it off."

He doesn't even breath in before he's begging, truly begging, tears in his eyes and a waver of pain in his voice. "I want it _off_ , I want it off _please,_ please, I want to come, I need to come, please let me come – _please,_ sir, can I come, please can I come? _Please_ , I've been good, I've been so good for you, I promise, _please_ …"

"It hurts," Jack says, not a question, makes a half-twist of his fingers under the rope and suddenly Sam is held tight. "Use his cock, make yourself come," he growls in her ear, and then he's truly _fucking_ her, slamming hard and deep, and all she can do is obey as Daniel mewls and cries under her.

"Yes, yes sir, oh – _god_ please Sam - it hurts, it _hurts_ – please, I've been good, I want it _off_ _please –_ oh please come please come Sam _please_ come _pleasepleaseplease-_ "

It happens like a new universe, all in a single instant. Jack's fingers clench, the ropes bite into her waist and sex and ass, his teeth sink into her shoulder – he slams into her, buries himself deep and groans and pulses into her, hot and slick and filling her up – she grinds down onto him, shaking, desperate, _so close_ – presses the open slit of Daniel's cock against her clit and comes so hard she screams – 

Daniel keens in pain and spurts right through the sound, with so much force and for so long that it's just a hot stream of thick, wet heat right on her clit, so hard it's as if he's actually _touching_ her.

He's still coming, all shaking sobs and helpless bucking hips and weakly pulsing cock, as she collapses on top of him; Jack lands heavily on her back, crushing her between them, but even the dead weight of them both isn't quite enough to keep him completely still.

"Holy _fuck,_ " Jack gasps, like he can't believe that just happened. Sam's not entirely certain it really did.

" _Jack…_ " It's a broken whimper, barely even his name, Daniel's voice rasping with near-pain. "Jack, _please…_ "

It takes her a second to understand until she realises – she can still feel, faintly, the buzz of the vibrator pressed deep inside him, and from the sound of him it's in the best and worst possible place. Jack fumbles around for a moment, and then it stops and Daniel finally goes still with a long moan, sagging heavily under her.

Jack, though, isn't still for whole seconds; her brain won't process why until the chain she realises she's still holding is suddenly loose in her fist.

"Take it off." His temple is pressed against her hair; his skin is slick with sweat everywhere he's lying on her. "Can you – I can't reach –"

Daniel actually _squeals_ the moment her fingers touch, flinching, a sound that devolves instantly into a ruined begging mess – " _No no no no_ don't please please _pleasepleasedon'tnonono_ –"

"Shhh…" He's thoroughly covered, slippery, soaked in come all over his cock and cage and balls. The thought of just sucking all of that off him flits unbidden through her head. "I'm just-"

He presses his face into her neck, panting. "No, no, I don't – _god,_ it hurts, please don't."

"Shh, okay, okay." She lets the key fall somewhere on the rug and tries to shift her weight enough to reach up and stroke his hair instead. She at least mostly manages it.

She's not entirely sure if they just stay like that for seconds, or whole minutes. Time just hangs, repeating over and over, a loop of sensation. Her neck throbbing from Jack's mouth and teeth. The rope still holding her, both soft and firm on her over-sensitive skin: the knot still teasing at her ass and the two strands still tight and so near her clit. Jack's thumping heart against her back, his cock slipping out of her as it softens. Daniel trembling between her thighs and his chest heaving against her breasts even as he slowly, slowly goes limp. 

Jack finally reaches up with enough coordination to let Daniel's hands free, before rolling off her with a groan and a heavy _thud_ she feels through the floorboards. He doesn't even complain. "Holy fuck," he says, again. 

Her legs are stiff, but she manages on the second try to heave herself off Daniel's hips and fall clumsily to his other side. She ends up mostly facing him and her gaze immediately goes to his cock, but she doesn't even realise she's licking her lips until he whimpers.

" _Please,_ don't even think about it."

She giggles unsteadily, pushes the sweaty hair back from his forehead. "I wasn't."

"You _were,_ I can practically feel it." It would be a laugh, if he had breath for it and wasn't still panting like he's run a marathon; his cock twitches heavily even with the weight of the cage, as if he really can feel her tongue right there... "Oh my _god,_ Sam."

Sprawled on his back, Jack lolls his head toward them both. "Was that…?"

Daniel drags in enough air to manage a tiny laugh, breathy and exhausted. "Well, I think I know what _mind-blowing_ means now."

That does make Jack move, even if only the arm that flails over to rub his knuckles warmly against Daniel's chest. "Yeah? Really?"

"Hurt like _hell._ " Daniel grins, sounding as if he just won the lottery. "But so good. So, so, _so_ good."

She watches Jack roll onto his side, wearing that soft little smile that's only theirs as he settles a palm over Daniel's heart. "You sure you don't want it off?"

Daniel shudders between their hands. "Oh _,_ I do, _please,_ I'll just scream if you touch it right now."

"I'll do it later," she promises. Her fingers fit perfectly between Jack's on his skin. She kisses his shoulder and snuggles up – very carefully – into his side. "No more begging needed. One get-out-of-cage-free card is officially yours."

Jack chuckles and looks over at her, reaches far enough to touch the line of rope running above her breast. "You? You okay?"

"Mmmm." She dips her head to kiss his fingertips. However much they've been writhing around, he's skilled enough at tying her now that she's still more than comfortable. Even the lines between her legs are just a satisfying tease for the moment, an occasional hint of pleasure with no need to chase it. "Still feels nice, sir."

"Good." That soft smile again. "You're gorgeous like that. Make sure you tell me when it needs to come off."

She settles her head on Daniel's chest. He smells of sweat and sex, enticing and endlessly familiar. She draws in a long, deep breath of it, lets him fill her from the lungs outward. "Mmm. Yes, sir."

"Mmmm…" Daniel sighs, a shaky but perfect sigh of utter contentment as Jack settles in more comfortably, too. "How lucky are we?"

The luckiest people in the galaxy, Sam thinks. She's seen enough of it to be sure of that.


	10. 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _Unending_ , if that happens in this universe.

"I can't believe you brought us all to your sex cabin for your planet's most sacred holiday."

"Actually, Earth has a cornucopia of different winter holidays, all of which have different meaning and significance to the people of different countries, religions, lifestyles..."

"It's not a sex cabin," Sam says, because that might be the more important point to clarify.

"No, it's just a cabin where we happen to have sex," Daniel slots in calmly, as if somehow it backs up his rebuttal of Vala's observations on the cultural significance of Christmas. 

"Well, it was false advertising," Vala retorts. "Cameron definitely called it your sex cabin. There was a clear implication."

"I did not!" Cam looks at her and Daniel and manages to not really look at either of them. "Boy Scout's honor, I did not call it your sex cabin."

" _I'm_ gonna call it our sex cabin from now on." Jack dangles a diet Coke in front of her, a Heineken in front of Daniel. "But everyone whose name isn't on the deed can get their own." He leans over the back of the couch with a shameless grin and kisses her, half-upside-down, with enough tongue that Vala makes an impressed sound.

His mouth tastes of mint – not just a little, but strong enough that she leans back and arches an eyebrow at him.

"Exactly how many candy canes have you eaten?"

"Enough." He wriggles his brows back at her. "You want it, or are you delegating?"

Somewhere in the multiverse, quantum theory dictates there's a Samantha Carter who's mortified at being propositioned quite that blatantly for midday peppermint-flavored oral sex in front of her teammates, even by the man they've all known is her lover and partner and dominant for years now. Even if it is their sex cabin.

But that's not this universe, and it's not her. In this universe the Ori are defeated, the Goa'uld are done, after ten years she _still_ has the best job in the world and she's still as crazily in love as ever with the best two men she's ever known. They're in Minnesota for Christmas with the most rag-tag and perfect family she could ask for, and by some miracle every one of them is simply happy for her to see Jack's collar around her neck and Daniel comfortable with his head in her lap.

And now not only do they have Jack with them for three whole weeks, he's in the mood to get his mouth on someone. Life simply doesn't get much better.

"Daniel," she says, sweetly, and pets his hair. "Go with Jack."

Janet smothers a laugh; Cam goes a faint shade of pink over his grin; Vala watches with that bright professional sort of interest, and Daniel just smiles up at her with glittering eyes.

"Yes, Sam." He sits up and kisses her, though, before he gets to his feet, and she brushes her fingers down his cheek.

"Good boy," she murmurs into his mouth, and doesn't care at all if everyone else hears.

"When's T getting here?" Cam asks, stretching back on the other end of the couch with his own beer, just as if he can't see Jack dragging Daniel to their bedroom by the hand like they're horny teenagers and probably grabbing another candy cane into the bargain.

"With Dad and the General tomorrow. They're gonna pick up Cassie from the airport on the way." She cracks her soda open and takes a sip. "You guys are all still good with the sleeping arrangements, right?"

Cam smirks. "You gonna have someone else in with you?"

She mirrors his expression exactly. "You're welcome to have the floor, the rug is pretty comfortable."

"Ah, I wish I hadn't asked."

"He never learns," Vala says, and pats Cam on the head like a puppy. "I am _trying,_ " she adds, mock-despairing. At least, Sam assumes she's not actually despairing of him yet.

"It takes time to train them properly," Janet says sagely, wine glass balanced carefully in both hands. "Right, Sam?"

"Oh, at least ten years," she agrees. Although it is Vala. "Maybe seven, for you."

Cam groans, though he really doesn't sound like he's putting his heart into it. 

Vala actually puffs up like that's high praise and says, "Thank you, Samantha," so cheerful and sincere that Sam's suddenly hit with the realisation that somewhere in the multiverse there's a Sam Carter who's an expert in navigating a successful bisexual, polyamorous, _deeply_ kinky relationship, and it turns out it's her.

Maybe she needs to branch out a little for her next book.

  


* * *

  


"I asked Teal'c to bring more candy canes," Daniel says with a wicked smile, from where he's stretched out on his back on their bed when she walks in. She smiles at the sight of him - freshly showered and naked, his hair still wet and spiky, and Jack must have swapped straight into the shower since he doesn't even have his collar back on yet. He's lying there splayed out casually on the duvet in just his bracelet and she can't even tell if he's trying to be provocative or not, but either way it's working.

"That good, huh?"

Daniel gives her a playful flutter of his eyelashes, and she knows he's caught her admiring him. "Mm-hmmmm…"

She laughs softly, settling on the edge of the bed. The picture she's imagining is one she knows so well she may as well have been there, but it's still as lovely as ever. "Good to know." She picks up his collar from the nightstand. "On your knees."

He moves without hesitating, and she's just as happy to admire him like this – the crunch of toned abs as he sits up, the play of muscles across his shoulders as he settles both hands behind his back, the sway of his soft cock and balls against his thighs as he kneels so gracefully on the rug right in front of her.

Even with all her own training and physical condition, these days Daniel beats her out on brute strength. Probably Jack, too. But here he is, on his knees for her as if he'd stay there all night, just because she asked.

She runs her fingers back through his hair, treats him to a firm tug hard enough to bring his chin up and his gaze back to hers. He hums happily, so relaxed, pure warmth in his eyes looking up at her. 

"My beautiful Daniel." He tastes faintly of peppermint, too, when she kisses him – toothpaste or candy canes, she can't tell. His mouth is warm and he smells of that rich, darkly sweet molasses-and-olive-oil soap Jack's been buying him for years for when they're up here, the scent that she knows reminds him of Cairo but for her is just him. Just _home_.

She smiles against his lips. It's snowing again outside, huge soft flakes drifting down past the window onto the deck. She can hear someone pottering around in the kitchen, Jack singing badly to himself in the shower. The cabin – _their_ cabin – is warm and cosy and full of love of so many kinds, and she's putting Daniel's collar back on with her own still comfortable around her neck. She really does have the most incredible life.

The padlock clicks and she sets it neatly against his skin, trailing her fingertips down his chest. "There you go."

Daniel's smile is soft now, too. "Thank you, Sam."

If she didn't already know he's as chilled out as she is, the slightly floaty edge to his voice just from that would do it. "Come up here," she says, untying her robe. "You smell nice, I want to cuddle."

He chuckles, gets smoothly back to his feet and then they're burrowing together under the bedclothes, all subconscious coordination and bare skin and light kisses. The sheets are a little chilly but the winter duvet is thick and heavy and she soon starts to warm up, especially when Daniel is a comfortable, very handsy furnace up against her back.

"Vala tried to wheedle the combination out of me again," he murmurs, nuzzling behind her ear, a hand on her thigh as he tucks his knees up tight behind hers.

She giggles. "You didn't tell her, I hope?"

"I wouldn't do that to Cam." Vala's been trying to get access to their toy chest since they all arrived. Sam is certain that should she really want it, Vala could break even her souped-up magnetically-sealed combination lock, but it's obviously a fun game for other reasons. Most likely, the varying degrees of terror on Cam's face whenever she hints at how familiar she'd be with what's inside.

"She's good for him," she says. It's true. She loves Cam like a third brother, and he could use a really deep, dirty, hours-long ass fuck like no man she's ever met. No one she hasn't done that for already, anyway.

"I can't wait to see what she gets him for Christmas." Daniel's hand starts stroking up and down her belly, fingers teasing up between her breasts without actually touching them at all. "When should we do gifts this year?"

He means _them_ , quite clearly. He's got a point; they've done their private little tradition with other people in the house before, but this might be the first time they'll be in close proximity to her father and their boss on Christmas morning, with a bedroom door that doesn't lock and the only bathroom right next door…

"Tomorrow night?" It'll be Christmas Eve, and they'll have to wait for everyone else to be in bed, but what's a little less sleep when they can catch it up whenever they like? 

"Sounds good." His fingers start dipping lower, but still light enough that he's just stroking over the shower-softened curls between her legs before travelling back up. It's such a gentle touch, especially lovely with him spooned right up behind her like this; she can feel his breath on her neck, even warmer than his skin against hers, and it's all just so relaxing…

She's drifting, not really toward sleep but just bathing in that feeling, when the lights flick off and Jack slips into bed – a brief cold draught of air that makes her neglected nipples suddenly tighten and then another warm body and breath close to hers.

"Hey." A kiss so full of love pressed to her lips; a quiet hum in her ear and the sound of their mouths softly touching. She smiles without opening her eyes, pulls him in close enough to get her arms around him.

"Hey." She nestles her face into the hollow of his throat; his knee fits snugly between hers, and Daniel's; his arm finds that familiar place to rest across her ribs, and she knows his hand is on Daniel's back. 

"Hey," Daniel murmurs, a sleepy little laugh, utterly relaxed. Jack huffs into her hair.

"I should have you kids always warm up the bed for me." 

Daniel's lips curve against her neck, his voice mischievous. "Mm, you should."

It seems like Jack's about to make a brilliantly lewd comment in reply when there's a sound from somewhere on the other side of the wall – not loud, but very clear. The kind of thing that would have them all reaching for the sidearms that are still never far away, even here, except it's a very _particular_ and very _distinctive_ type of sound. One this cabin is intimately familiar with.

"Is that…?"

Jack snorts loudly; Daniel smothers a laugh against her skin. 

"And they told _us_ to be good," he mutters, wickedly. Jack makes a disgusted sound.

"Well screw that," he declares, with a wolfish grin, and tips her chin up to kiss her.

  


* * *

  


The snow settles overnight into a carpet of white, pristine and peaceful. Late Christmas Eve morning finds Sam out on the dock, curled in Jack's lap in one of the bigger lawn chairs they bought for exactly this: wrapped up as warm as she can in a woollen sweater and jeans, a hot Thermos between her palms, an old, not-so-black beanie she thinks was his tugged down over her ears. 

Pristine doesn't last long, peaceful even less: Cassie's not been here an hour and she's already teaching Vala the technique for perfect snow angels. Sam can hear the giggling behind them, mixed with Janet's slightly less manic but just as happy laughter. Jack's cracked a big enough hole in the frozen-over pond to aim a line through and every so often his arm shifts as he makes another cast, marked by a faint _plop_ or the occasional _plink_ when his aim isn't quite right.

Footsteps – not Daniel's, not Teal'c's, not Cam's – and then the scrape of a chair against the deck. 

"How'd you get the hole?"

She should probably look up, hearing Landry's voice, but she's got the exact right position right now. Jack's chest is warm and comfortable and besides that, hidden under the blanket his ring finger has been gently hooked through the O-ring of her collar for the last ten minutes. 

"Rock," Jack says. "Big rock."

She smirks into his chest. "Who are you, Tarzan?"

She only mutters it loud enough for him to hear, but he gives her collar a playful little tug that makes her go warm all over even in the chill air.

Landry drops into the new chair, into her eyeline. He's cradling a mug of what smells like the good coffee – which means Daniel must be up – and he's wearing camo gear with a fur-lined hunting hat.

"Room for one more?"

"Well you did bring your own chair," Jack says magnanimously. "Hold this for me," he murmurs into her hair, taps the end of the rod against her thigh. She's impressed that he manages to uproot one of the old rods, stabbed down into the snow when they came outside, and pass it hand-over-head to Landry without even needing her to move. "Have at it."

He doesn't take his rod back, though, at least not entirely. Instead, both of his hands cover hers, their fingers fitting naturally together; so she leaves hers there and just lets him keep casting for them, and they sit there keeping each other warm and fishing for nothing at all.

  


* * *

  


"Check," Daniel says, two seconds too late for her to do anything about it.

"If you had just let me borrow a ball gag you could all have slept," Vala carries on blithely, sprawling her arms across the table beside the chess board. "I know you must have _one_ around here-"

" _Vala._ " The heat creeps up her neck and she restrains the need to bury her face in her hands in despair. And on top of that, Daniel's got her. It's mate in another two moves. So to speak. "Firstly – well actually, firstly, you don't 'borrow' anything and secondly, if we did let you, it wouldn't be anything that goes near bodily fluids." 

"Thirdly, we had that talk about _boundaries_." Daniel gives Vala a pointed look, and nods his head not-at-all-subtly toward the kitchen.

Vala looks at him. Looks up. Looks at her. 

" _Ohhh_."

"Yes," Daniel says, just as pointed, giving Sam that _I know it's not me but I'm still sorry_ look. 

"I'm just going to go and…"

"You go, do," Daniel agrees.

Sam doesn't hold her breath exactly, but she also doesn't move until the front door bangs closed again, Vala's excited shout of, "oooh, snowmen!" fading on the other side.

Daniel winces, though he tries to add a supportive smile. She groans and puts her forehead on the table.

"Sorry, dad."

She hears his footsteps, knows well enough that he's coming out of the kitchen; when they stop is when she finally dares to look up at him. To her relief he looks only a touch embarrassed, even offers her an awkward smile as he puts their three mugs down on the table. 

"Ah, I've heard worse." He pushes a mug over to her. "You know you're in check there?"

She smiles gamely back at him and tries not to show quite how relieved she feels. "And mate in two." She tips her king over with a finger. 

Her dad nudges the biggest mug across the table. "So, Daniel," and she'd swear he even looks right at Daniel's collar, "they still looking after you okay?"

A second later and she'd have choked on her coffee. "Dad!"

Daniel laughs, even through a faint blush, and stretches a hand across in turn to thread his fingers between hers. "Oh, better than ever."

  


* * *

  


It doesn't surprise Sam in the slightest that when it comes to pure viciousness with a snowball, Vala is an _animal._

She's hiding Jack and Daniel's gifts under their pillows when there's a knock on the screen door that leads out onto the deck. When she looks, it's a moment even more terrifying than Vala reminding her father that the collars aren't just for show: Vala _and_ Cassie, both wearing winter coats and hats and matching evil grins, beckoning her back outside.

Sam has crafted a lot of frozen ammunition for Cassie over the years, and the guys still think she's busy doing things they're pretending not to know about in the bedroom, so she's built them an impressive stockpile before Jack happens to glance up from reeling in his line. 

Even from across the pond she sees the way his eyes narrow; the look of puzzlement, the way he cases the situation, the three of them and Janet busily fortifying their defences; the glee as his gaze meets hers.

" _Daniel! Teal'c!_ "

"Damn it," Cassie says. "Teal'c's a monster."

" _Cameron!_ " Vala yells. " _Get your cute ass back here right now!_ "

Sam can well imagine Cameron thinks he's getting something other than marching orders from that, but whatever works.

It's a battle chaotic enough to put the Goa'uld to shame. Jack rounds his team up for an all out frontal assault on the deck in minutes; their team has the advantage of preparation and a secure base, but they've potentially limited their resources and they're cornered, so it costs them to push back that first attack. 

They also have pure energy on their side, in the form of Cassie and Vala and Cam, but Jack's team has more stubbornness than an entire herd of mules. After the first few rounds it's a surprisingly even match, and Sam's pretty sure their dwindling supply of ammunition is going to be the deciding factor.

Cam lobs another shot at Teal'c's retreating back – Sam suspects that's a tactical move – and ducks quickly back down behind the railing. "Does your dad even _feel_ the cold?"

"Selmak," she says, rolling another pair of snowballs over to him.

"Aw, that's practically cheating."

She snorts with amusement and hefts her own weapon. "I'll let you tell him that." 

  


* * *

  


They might have had a chance, Sam reflects in the moment, if Cam hadn't made the truly spectacular mistake of thinking he weighs the same as a slim twenty-year-old girl still young enough not to wrap up against the cold.

Cassie moves like a little lioness, light on her feet with wide strides on the ice and then stealth-hopping along the grass, gathering extra snow as she goes. She makes it all the way around, gives Sam and Janet a thumbs-up, and disappears around the other side of the cabin to flank the other team's defences. Even Jack hasn't seen her coming when the first ball smacks him squarely in the back, the second catching him in the side of the head when he's not quick enough to duck.

"You little minx!" He's grinning like he's Cassie's age as the sniper fight starts in earnest – Cass even has the upper hand, she's using Sam's technique of quickly-rolled, ping-pong ball sized artillery and Jack can't fire back quick enough. 

The kid is a menace to mankind. Sam's so proud.

Of course, that's when Cam – all six-foot-one, one-eighty-plus pounds of him, bundled in SGC issue boots and work jeans and a thick padded jacket – spots Teal'c belly-creeping from behind the wall of snowmen serving as their team's cover, toward the fishing dock.

"Oh no, you don't," is all the far too enthusiastic warning any of them get, and then all three women are watching their team idiot jump up onto the railing and down onto the frozen pond.

Cam is not as light, nor as careful, as Cassie. Sam calmly considers, as she watches the ice splinter under the force of his landing, whether she should request a swap for SG-1: Landry's here to witness the evidence, he'd probably go for it. Cass already has the clearance, that's half the battle right there.

That's when the ice gives way entirely. Cam grabs for the railing, but he's jumped too far: Vala might be able to reach him, but Sam has complete confidence she's not even going to try, even when Janet unhooks her left arm from her crutch and offers it as a makeshift branch. 

Vala lives up to Sam's expectations with supreme, regal amusement. Even after ten years of hurting men for business and pleasure, Sam's impressed – by that, and by the sheer volume of Cam's shriek as he plunges feet-first into the freezing pond.

"Jack ever fish from over here?" Vala asks idly, leaning over the rail. 

Sam crosses her arms on the rail beside her. Cam is spluttering, treading water, making little noises that Vala seems to be evaluating with a glint in her eye. Despite her entire lack of tact, there are reasons they get on so well. "Not usually. But since Cam was kind enough to make a hole…"

"He's so thoughtful," Vala says, with a fond little sigh. 

  


* * *

  


Even with boots, gloves and coats banned from passing the front door, there might be more snow inside the cabin than out right now. A trail of it leads to the bathroom, to the sound of the shower running and Cam's muttered protests as Vala manhandles him; Sam ends up treading more through into the bedroom herself, making a face when she steps on a melting chunk as she pulls spare towels from the dresser. To add insult to chilly injury, Jack chooses that moment to slide his arms around her from behind and tease ice-cold fingers under her sweater.

"Jack!" Holy Hannah, he's freezing. She's obviously not the only one who trailed snow in here. She grabs his wrists and turns, pulls his hands up together between them. "Were you even wearing gloves out there?" 

"Sure, right up until Mitchell took a swan dive." He's grinning, playful, but he winces as she starts to chafe his fingers between her palms. "Ow!"

She rolls her eyes at him, but she does stop. Maybe not that way, then.

Instead she lifts both his hands to her lips, and sucks his left thumb into her mouth. 

It's Jack who hums first, a slow flare of pleasure in his eyes. When she switches to his fingers it only gets hotter, even more when she sucks harder and rubs the flat of her tongue across his fingertips. "Mmm, yeah…"

She loves his hands, always has. Jack's fingers are clever and gentle and strong, careful but forceful, skin of every texture – soft, scar-smooth, gun-calloused. She'd know the feel and taste of them anywhere, and the desire to warm them inside her body however she can is too deep to resist.

"That's better," he murmurs, pleasure shivering down her spine at his tone. "Mmm, much better, huh?"

She smiles around his knuckles, tugs a little on his wrist to encourage him – she can take more, and does, lets him push all four fingers toward the back of her throat and lets the feeling settle her. Breathing steadily through her nose and sucking on Jack's fingers, the way they slowly warm on her tongue as she just looks into his eyes… 

"You're such a good girl for me," Jack says, quiet and pleased. "Thank you, Sam," as he takes back one hand and feeds her the other, no hesitation at all.

She hums on his fingers with pleasure all her own, sucks and licks and doesn't even blink her gaze from his. It's so intimate, having him like this, letting him have _her_ like this, the trust and tenderness of it. If he gets feeling back in his fingers too, then so much the better.

He obviously has; this time his touch just under the hem of her sweater is warm, light fingertips in the small of her back before he takes the other hand back and taps her playfully on the lips. 

"Well, that was the best way to warm up."

Sam grins and stretches up to kiss him.

  


* * *

  


There are clear advantages to having a cabin full of survival-trained personnel. Within ten minutes of fishing Cam out of the pond, Teal'c is handing out mugs of tea, Janet's passing around medicinal candy, and a still slightly-sodden Daniel has wrangled towels for everyone – at least, everyone not already herded into the shower by their amused but attentive teammate and girlfriend. Sam claims a spot by the fire, adds an extra log from the bucket for good measure and gives the crackling flames a careful encouragement.

She doesn't hear him come up behind her, but even through the softness of a towel probably older than some artifacts he's studied, she knows Daniel's hands just as instantly when they land on her hair and start to gently dry her off.

"Mmmm." She has to make a concerted effort not to close her eyes and lean back into him, at least not before she puts the hot poker down safely. Daniel's hands are a glorious sin all of their own, and she adores having them on her as much as she does Jack's – he's so tactile but so subconsciously careful, it's like being under her very own microscope.

Daniel chuckles very quietly at her reaction. His fingers start to move slower, in mesmerising little circles, so subtle she doesn't notice she's a hair away from moaning out loud until her eyes are almost closed, the sound already in her throat…

"You're such a tease." She firmly turns away from thinking about who might be able to see whatever look she has on her face right now.

"You can punish me later," Daniel murmurs wickedly in her ear, and gives her hair a final, satisfying scrub all over before sitting back.

She turns to look at him, and oh, she loves him but he's a fool. Or the most devilish man she knows. Of course he's looked after everyone else first, so his own hair is still damp with splashes of pond water and melting snow, and why punish him later when she can do it now in such a lovely way? 

"Swap," she orders, points at the rug in front of her. The towel is big enough that they can share – and an excellent tool to improve her grip, as it happens. She gives him that same quick, all-over scrub with both hands and then starts from his hairline – with a long, hard pull on his hair, squeezing water out into the towel with both hands, and Daniel actually chokes down a gasp.

" _Sam-_ "

"Quiet." She pulls again, fighting her own wicked smile at the little noise he doesn't quite keep in. "Keep quiet, and keep still."

He doesn't even acknowledge in words, just reaches back and squeezes her thigh with one hand. She can practically hear the _Yes, Sam._

 __"Good boy," she murmurs, quiet as she can, as Teal'c sets two mugs down on the hearth beside them. She catches him smiling and flashes him a grin, gives another hard squeeze that makes Daniel sigh happily and lean back into her hands.

It doesn't really matter who sees anyway.

  


* * *

  


"Oh, _we_ won," Jack insists over the hiss of the shower. "Right, Daniel?"

A laugh from the other side of the shower screen, the tiny bathroom already misted up around them. "Absolutely."

"Vala might have something to say about that," she reminds them both, shoots Jack a playful smirk over her shoulder. She's warmed up in front of the fire, but she's still been pelted with snow for the last hour and the hot water all over her quickly-stripped-naked body is _fantastic_. 

There's a brief hit of colder air and then Daniel slips in, pulling the screen closed behind him – and then it's just the three of them together, so close there's skin everywhere on her skin, hot and wet under the spray raining down. She hasn't been as glad for the sheer size and pressure of this shower since Jack installed it, back when Daniel was too ill to bathe without at least one of them there and it was more comfort than tease to climb in together like this.

Now, though – now it's definitely a tease.

"Don't really care," Jack murmurs, deep enough to make her skin prickle deliciously. His well-warmed fingers close around her wrists and she can practically _hear_ him grinning. "Vala can think what she wants, but she's not here, is she?"

She's torn between resistance, just to make him play some more, or just melting under the perfect combination of hot water pounding down hard on her skin, their gorgeous naked bodies pressed so close to hers, the warm scent of Daniel's soap and Jack's hands just so slowly tightening…

"No sir," she breathes out, lets her hands go lax against his grip. Vala's out in the living room with everyone else: last Sam saw her, continuing to defrost Cam with her own body heat in front of the fire. Sam is the one who's here, finally getting all the feeling back in her extremities and an altogether different feeling between her thighs.

"Oh yeah." Jack draws her back against his chest, tightly enough for Daniel to shift into place in front of her. He's still as relaxed and turned on as when she finished with him in front of the fire – blue eyes sparkling with desire, mouth soft and tender on hers, fingers already warm as they slip inside her… 

Jack chuckles at her quiet moan, licks the hot water from her neck. "We _definitely_ won."

  


* * *

  


By the time it's truly Christmas Eve the whole cabin smells of smoked wood and spices, cinnamon and clove and star anise, hot sweet wine and warm sugar and oranges: it's heady and soporific, and Sam doesn't even realise she's dozing against Jack's shoulder until someone very gently plucks the half-empty glass of mulled wine from her fingers.

She blinks sleepily. There's music coming from somewhere, probably Cassie's iPod; she can hear Cam snoring, her dad and Jack and the General talking quietly, Teal'c and Cassie taunting each other over the senet board, Janet's laughter. The fire is still crackling happily and bathing the room in a warm orange glow, everything seeming a little hazy.

Daniel smiles up at her, slightly but happily drunk, a glass now in each hand.

She smiles back at him, absently strokes his hair. "You have the rest," she says, and snuggles down more comfortably into Jack's embrace.

  


* * *

  


It's snowing again on Christmas morning when Jack kisses her awake, soft and sweet with the faint rasp of stubble and a tender little smile.

"Merry Christmas," he whispers into her mouth. Sam sleepily blinks her eyes open and smiles back at him. 

"Merry Christmas." It's barely dawn, through the window behind him, a hushed watercolor of pale pink and warm orange filtered through the soft lens of falling snow. Jack hasn't even switched on a light, and the world is still small and muted and warm – narrowed down to just the weight of the duvet, the warmth of Daniel stirring in her arms, the silence of the cabin around them and that love shining out of Jack's eyes as he leans in so close.

"Mmm, merry Christmas," Daniel murmurs, and Jack kisses him just as sweetly. 

"Get dressed," he says quietly, to them both, and there's enough intensity in the words that she just presses a kiss to Daniel's cheek and slips out from under the covers.

There's finally no sound from Cam and Vala's room as they tiptoe through the kitchen, where Jack picks up a Thermos from the counter as if he's expecting it to be there. In the almost-dawn light through the living room windows she makes out her dad fast asleep on a bedroll, head-to-foot with Teal'c; the door to the old master Janet and Cassie are sharing still pulled closed; the bundled blankets on the couch a sure sign General Landry is just as dead to the world as everyone else.

Jack opens the front door without a sound, and they slip out into a quiet, private, snow-covered world lit by the lazy golden sunrise climbing over the trees.

There should be snow on the porch but both wicker chairs and the well-stuffed cushions between them are all clean, dry and draped in blankets, three ready-prepared mugs and a freshly opened box of La Maison du Chocolat waiting on the broad log table between them, as if someone's already been out here and put this magical little scene together.

Sam has a very strong suspicion who that might be. 

Jack sits down in one chair and cracks open the Thermos, pours out coffee that's hot and fresh and smells _really_ good. 

She finds herself just watching as Daniel sinks down on the cushions, settles in as comfortably as he was in bed ten minutes ago. As Jack leans down, kisses him, puts a mug in his hands, folds a blanket warmly around his shoulders and tugs gently on each corner to get him in close.

"Here." Jack hands over her mug with that same smile that woke her up. His other hand settles on Daniel's head, resting against the side of his thigh. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm." Daniel takes a sip, cradling his mug close. "Wonderful," and Sam doesn't think she's imagining the thickness in his voice.

"Good," Jack says. "No one's gonna be up for a while, if you want," and Sam laughs softly with delight as he slips a leash out of his pocket. 

And oh, Daniel is _stunning_ , the way he looks up at Jack with that total trust, the way he smiles when he says, "Yes, please, sir," and lifts his chin like that. The way he sighs so happily when Jack clips the leash on and winds the length of it around his hand, just tight enough to feel.

"I love you guys," she says, because she can't stop herself if she wanted to. Daniel turns that gorgeous smile on her; she feels it spread through her, onto her own lips as she leans down to kiss the top of his head. "Our beautiful, brilliant, _perfect_ boy." She looks up at Jack, passes on that look. "And you…"

Jack arches an eyebrow, impish and tempting and god, he's just…

Perfect, just the same. For her. For Daniel. For both of them. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, smiling, and she sinks eagerly, joyfully into his arms. Jack tugs another blanket over and wraps it around her, tucks it close as she nestles her head down onto his chest. 

She always misses him so much when he's in DC. They both do. She knows she's going to miss him again, over and over, but it's always worth it for so many reasons – and right now it doesn't matter. Right now he's here with them, in this simple, carefully crafted moment he's made so special just for the three of them.

"All good?" He smiles at her quiet hum of assent, rests his mug lightly on her thigh and loosens Daniel's leash for a moment - but only to reach over to the candy box. He refuses to bring it within reach, though - instead he pops a truffle into her mouth with his own fingers and it's delicious, decadently rich dark chocolate covered in a dusting of cocoa powder that sticks to her lips until he kisses it away. 

A gentle tug is all it takes to make Daniel look up, a quiet, sensual, "Open up," and then Jack is oh-so-slowly feeding a rich chocolate truffle between those soft, waiting lips - and holding his fingertips there, until Daniel's pink tongue slips out to lick the cocoa powder off and kiss his palm.

It can't be above zero yet and hot coffee can only do so much, but Sam feels warm all over. "This is beautiful, Jack." The sun is half up, the snow all around them glittering white. "You had this all planned?"

"Yep." He kisses her temple. "Glad the weather played along. I'd hate to have had to call Thor in at the last minute." 

Daniel chuckles, nuzzling close, with a relaxed little hum when Sam sinks her fingers into his hair and starts to stroke. "Mmm. You'd have done it, though."

"Anything for the both of you. Always." Jack's voice is quiet, but it carries in the dawn silence. She'd swear she hears it echo back to her from all around them, from this place that's so familiar and means so much to all of them. 

There's still no sound from inside; they probably have an hour or more before anyone's awake, her dad included. She starts tugging a little harder with the next stroke, rakes her nails just lightly across his scalp, and Daniel goes liquid against Jack's thigh, under her fingers. It's possible Jack's solid hold on his leash is the only thing keeping him from just melting at their feet.

" _Sam…_ " 

Jack gives her a proud little grin over his mug. She flashes it right back. "Just like that, sweetheart?"

Daniel _purrs_ , there's just no other word for it. "Mmmm… don't ever stop doing that…"

"Shh. Never." She's going to stay right here, like this, doing this, for as many infinities as she can.

"God, you're perfect," Jack murmurs, and Sam isn't sure whether he even has one of them in mind, but it hardly makes a difference. All that matters is the way he's holding them both – so differently and yet so much the same, with the same strength and tenderness and love, the same fierce promise. _Always._

Daniel takes another long sip of coffee and sighs, that utterly blissed-out sound that makes her smile; Jack crooks a finger through the ring of her collar, so gentle but so easily possessive that she shivers with quiet joy, and then he's tugging just hard enough to pull her mouth up to his as bright sunlight breaks across the cabin.


	11. 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post- _Trio_.

" _*Radiation poisoning,*_ " Daniel declares.

" _*Doesn't count,*_ " Jack retorts, but Sam watches him hug Daniel tighter and wishes she could do the same.

" _*Does too.*_ "

" _*Does not.*_ "

" _*Does.*_ "

" _*Not.*_ "

" _*All right, why not?*_ "

"Because," she says. Listening to them bicker makes her smile, but also sets a stone of homesickness in her chest. She means her interruption to be light-hearted, at least mostly, but the latest dose of pain relief is wearing off and she's exhausted, she can't sleep and she's _so_ far from home. 

Daniel's gaze softens, even through the not-at-all-high-definition screen. " _*Yeah. Okay. Then you tie, broken tibia is the worst Christmas injury.*_ "

She's only got two more minutes. "I miss you," she says, words that hurt coming up. "God, I just - I _miss you._ "

" _*We miss you too. We love you, Sam.*_ " Daniel's fingertips go out of focus as they touch the screen, as if he can somehow reach along the entire gate bridge that's letting her speak to them at all. 

"I love you, too." She can't keep the tears out of her voice. She doesn't want to – for ninety more seconds she gets to just forget about Colonel Carter, Commander of Atlantis and she's just _Sam,_ the woman who's allowed to feel like this and is never less than honest with her guys."I wish you were here. I wish I were _home_. I miss you guys so much - I can't sleep with this damned cast on, and Jennifer won't give me the good stuff like Janet used to-"

" _*Shhh,*_ " Jack cuts in. " _*Shhh, Sam. Deep breath.*_ "

Her body still obeys him before her mind even processes the words – just the tone of his voice is enough. She finds her fingers at her neck, twining around the thin trinium chain, index finger slipped through the single ring cast into its length the way Jack would do if he could reach through the screen. 

" _*Good girl,*_ " Jack says, so gentle and so proud. " _*Close your eyes.*_ "

She's barely got a minute left. She could stare at them both for a year and not want to blink, and anyway she shouldn't let him and he shouldn't do it, not even over the most private encrypted channel. She's in a private room but even so, anyone could walk in at any moment – anyone could hear, any of these people she likes but who don't know, aren't trusted that way, aren't _family_. It wouldn't be Sam or Jack, it would be Colonel Carter being Brigadier General O'Neill's _good girl_ , and it'd be enough to feed the rumor mill for decades.

 __They've always done their best to keep work separate. It's the height of irony that she's the furthest from his command she's ever been, and the most willing to follow any order – _any_ order – he wants to give.

" _*That's it, Sam.*_ " Jack's voice is soft, pleased, as she leans back into the infirmary pillow and closes her eyes. " _*See? It doesn't matter where you are, you're always perfect for me.*_ "

It can't be more than thirty seconds before the call ends. "Jack…"

" _*I'm here. I've got you. My good girl, I'm so proud of you. I want you to just relax, just breathe, go to sleep for me.*_ "

She's glad trinium is practically unbreakable. The ache in her fingers is comforting. "Daniel…?"

" _*I'm here. I'm yours, Sam, always yours, I promise. We love you, we're here, you can sleep now.*_ "

When she wakes up, it's morning and her leg hurts again. Someone's left a new round of meds, a glass of water, and set her tablet beside the bed. She doesn't remember the call disconnecting.

  


* * *

  


She dreams about them, the second night back, after Jennifer lets her out for good behavior. 

_…Jack's mouth travels up her naked body in slow, slow, meandering patterns – soft licks of his mischievous tongue, sharp wicked nips of his teeth that leave stinging marks behind, long hard sucks that she knows are going to bruise…_

_…Daniel's tongue works her clit, steady and merciless at Jack's command; his fingers work into her, so deep – so_ deep _, curling forward to find just the right spot inside…_

 _…Jack's hands hold her wrists down tight against the bed, his teeth tugging at her tight nipples, stubble rasping over sensitive skin as Daniel pushes slick fingers into her ass and oh, she's so_ full _…_

 __She wakes up panting, sweating and swearing into the dark of her quarters, with a low moan when she realises her thighs are lying open and her hands are up beside her head…

Her resulting behavior, she's pretty sure, wouldn't be considered _good_ by anyone in the medical profession.

The cast is heavy and her leg aches, but she's getting used to ignoring that. _Not my first broken bone,_ she hears in Jack's voice as she's hoisting herself up against the pillows.

The ache in her sex, the way her clit throbs, the restless need under her skin – those are so much harder to ignore, when she's got the clearest dream of them both still burned into her head like a sun shadow. 

She didn't dare bring anything more than a hand-sized wand vibrator with her, even on the Daedalus, but Teyla is a wise, discreet godsend of a woman who's apparently used to dealing with the needs of Earthers on a limited personal space allowance. Reaching for the bottom drawer beside her bed, Sam thinks for at least the fiftieth time that there's simply no way to overstate that woman's critical importance to Atlantis. Especially not to the male-dominated, don't-ask-don't-tell US military.

The Athosians most commonly make their 'pleasure tools' of highly polished wood, and the two Sam now owns are beautiful – a rich walnut color with whorls of deep red-purple and ebony, the patterns entirely unique but together, definitely a matched pair.

She chose them for that reason, of course. And for the very specific length and girth and shape of each one, not exact enough to make her feel weird but close enough to scratch this itch that keeps rising up inside her.

She's aware that she'd probably have less of a problem if she wasn't used to an actual, active, inventive sex life – but she is, and when she wakes up from a dream like _that_ there's nothing for it but to take matters into her own hands as best she can.

Or at least _try_.

She likes to think she's pretty flexible, and she's definitely more fit than Jennifer or Rodney, even if she was kind enough not to mention it to their faces. She really does hike that far every few days, or at least she did before she started riding a desk. 

But it turns out flexibility doesn't count for as much when her elbow is swollen like a golf ball, her ribs are bruised to hell, there's a goddamned plaster cast on her leg and it's the middle of the night; with nothing else to distract her, what's left of the painkillers really don't kill as much as they should. It feels like she's trying to get air with a concrete boot on, and every time she moves there's a hot spike right up through the bone.

It's as frustrating as _hell_ , and not in a good way. She can't relax, she can't get a position that doesn't turn painful, she _desperately_ wants something inside her but as much lube as she uses and as much as she tries, even with the smaller toy, it's just – not – _working_ –

By the time she admits it and shoves the toy away, she's barely got enough patience left to roll onto her side – of course the nightstand is on the wrong side for it to be easy, which means leaving the cast dragging behind her – and dig into the drawer for her vibrator. At least the damned thing is charged; she might have screamed with literally impotent fury otherwise.

In the end she just lies back, takes a long breath in and a longer one out. _Breathe,_ she hears Jack say. _I just want you to relax. Just breathe._

 _I just_ want _to relax,_ she thinks, plaintively. At least, too, this method only needs one hand: she can leave her aching elbow bent and curl her fingers around the trinium at her neck, while the other hand holds the buzzing vibe on top of her clit. She wasn't exactly ready to draw it out when she woke up: now she just presses it down hard, tries to not clench her thighs or move her hips, tries to just _feel_ it, tries to just _come_ already –

It does feel good. It does. It's hard for it not to, there's a really powerful vibrator on full power crushed against her clit. _I just want to come, I just want to come, please let me come_ is running like a mantra through her head.

It feels good, but it's not enough. She's too tired and aching and frustrated and she wants it to be Jack she's begging, not a hunk of battery-powered silicon.

_Damn it._

  


* * *

  


Rodney finds her in her office on the morning of what on Earth is the last Saturday before Christmas. He walks in right as she's cursing up a storm under her breath, trying to wrestle out of her jacket without jostling her propped-up right leg and only managing to knock her crutches to the floor. 

"Hey." He reaches down and picks them up for her, rights them against the edge of the desk.

She offers him a faint smile. "Thanks."

"How's the leg?"

"A pain." She grimaces. "How're the hands?"

He holds them up: both free of bandages now, except for some light gauze still taped to his palms. The skin around it is still a raw kind of red – the kind of color Sam's something of an expert in – but they look like they're healing well. 

"Looking good." 

"Jennifer says another week or so." He shifts on his feet for a moment – goes to rest his hands on a chair and then thinks better of it with a wince. "I, um. I know it's been – but I realised I never actually said thank you. For, well, all of it. The climbing and the gas leak and the climbing again and the," he makes a gesture, "well, the frankly mathematically improbable grappling work, and just – you knew what to do, all those stupid things I should have thought of like knotting the rope…"

The up side of Rodney's usual biting insincerity is how obvious it is when he really means it. "You didn't do so badly yourself, Rodney. You know without you I'd be dead right now," she reminds him, with a glance at his hands. "So, you're welcome. And thank you." 

"Oh. Well. I guess, you're welcome, too." He lets out a short little humorless laugh that smacks of relief. "Well, that was easier than Jennifer, anyway."

The way he says her name again has an edge of awkwardness that seems too familiar for Sam's tastes. She offers him a raised eyebrow and a supportive little smile. "I was kind of busy," she gestures ruefully at the crutches, "as soon as we got back. Did she…?"

Rodney makes a face and slumps into the chair opposite. Well, she supposes she did just ask. "She asked me out. For a drink. Of course she had to be ridiculously obvious about it before I realised-"

"Hey, we're neither of us exactly the free-beers type," she teases. He gives her a wan smile back.

"It was awkward. Really, unpleasantly awkward."

"I'm sorry, Rodney." She really is. He's not quite the insufferable asshole that Hammond sent packing to Siberia any more – she supposes she'd even call him a friend, now. Probably the closest one she has on Atlantis, and isn't that a crazy thought?

"Is it always like that?"

She sits back in her chair, idly massaging her knee above the cast. Damn it, no more ibuprofen for another hour yet. "You mean, coming out?"

The way his eyes flick to the open door, the brief glimpse of wildness and panic in his face – he doesn't really need to say, "Yes," but to his credit he does.

She touches the door control on the desk and watches Rodney visibly unclench all over as it slides shut. "That depends," she says. "I mean, I don't make much of a habit of it for myself, so we're a little different there. Did you tell her about John?"

It's always the softer look he gets, just around his eyes, that gives him away – at least to her. Sheppard is better at hiding it, though of course he would be, but Rodney's too expressive not to have tells. She wouldn't have known _who_ , but she thinks she'd always have suspected there was someone. Someone he's hiding for, and maybe that's just too close to home for her not to notice.

"No." He shakes his head. "I didn't – I – it's not…"

"Not yours to tell," she finishes for him. He nods, waves a hand at her that's almost absent and yet despairing.

"See, you get it. Why doesn't everyone just get it?"

Sam can't help it – she laughs, harder than she has in weeks. "Well, statistically speaking I'm a bit of an outlier."

"I hate it." His eyes shoot up to her before his mouth's even closed. "I don't, I didn't mean – not you. This. Not _your_ this, I mean – just, the secrets and the awkwardness and I'm rambling about this in _in your office_ and it's probably bugged-"

"It's not bugged, Rodney." It's odd, but when his mouth starts to run away with him like that, she thinks she can see a hint of what John sees. Rodney is _profoundly_ not her type and she'd cheerfully murder him before dating him, but she can see the vulnerability there. The lost little boy who's too smart, who's _not like_ everyone else, who doesn't quite _fit_.

He reminds her a little of Daniel. He reminds her of herself.

"I hate it, too." She says it quietly, but clearly, and watches his expression change. "It sucks. I won't pretend it doesn't. I'd give anything to not have to keep those secrets." She smiles warmly at him. She hasn't had time or chance to pick up more than token gifts for her team, but maybe this is a Christmas present she can give him. "But Rodney, if you can stick with it – if you can handle all that? It can be really, really worth it."

The almost smile, the slightest slant of his lips: that tells her even if he doesn't say it out loud – even if he's not able to, yet – that she's right. He's the kind of person who'll take on more than USAF regulations and family baggage or societal expectations to have a chance to _belong._

 __She doesn't realise she's toying with her bracelet until she sees Rodney's gaze slip – and follows it, right to her own fingers at the back of her opposite wrist.

She's not fastidious about it, but it does usually end up hidden, tucked far enough up under her uniform sleeve that it's not only out of sight but away from any unconscious need to touch it. It's not that she has to – a simple, slender length of trinium that splits only once into a solid ring no bigger than the pad of her pinkie finger, it's well within the uniform code, and there are enough ways to explain the meaning away – but Atlantis isn't exactly the SGC, and she isn't Daniel. 

Atlantis has people like Rodney McKay, for one.

"You were doing that back on eight-oh-one," he says, in a curiously quiet voice. 

She stops and puts the ring back flat against her skin, but she doesn't push it back up her sleeve. Her memory of the actual injury is slightly hazy, thankfully – if there's anything her mind is trained for, it's compartmentalising – but she does remember that, has the distinct image of pressing the flat ring hard between her thumb and fingers while Jennifer removed her boot and probed at her skin.

"You always wear it," Rodney carries on, as if it's an equation he's just recently managed to balance, a revelation he's making himself share. He's fiddling with the cuff of his own sleeve, she notices. "Unless you..." his fingers drift up to his neck, for the briefest moment.

"Plenty of people wear jewellery," she replies levelly.

"You never did." She arches an eyebrow sharply. "At the SGC," he adds, uncomfortably. "I never saw you wear that there."

"You saw me what, three times?"

"You didn't wear it until you came here." He says it if not with certainty, then at least bravery.

She could bleed a stone faster, but she can also practically feel the eggshells under his feet. He's more unsteady right now than he was balanced on a rickety beam fifteen feet in the air. "No," she says, deliberately calm and simple. And honest. "I didn't."

She doesn't expect his voice to catch the way it does. "Why not?"

The temptation to say _because I didn't need it when I could get on my knees for Jack every day_ is pretty damned strong. "It was a gift when I got command," she says, instead. 

"'Congratulations on the promotion?'"

She smiles. They're dancing almost smoothly now, spiralling slowly closer to the point where either she admits the truth or he admits why he's so focused on knowing it. "Not exactly."

Rodney's eyes meet hers – and _oh_ , for just a split second, there's a spark of something lost and longing and surprised behind them that isn't directed at her at all.

"You do know what… that… commonly symbolises," he says, obviously trying for that flippant McKay arrogance and failing by a country mile. 

She has a mild moment of surprise that _he_ knows, although she shouldn't – yes it's Rodney McKay, who is very clear about his lack of care or interest in social interaction of most kinds, but she's well aware she's a poster child for hidden depths herself. What is a real shock is feeling a flicker of pride in him for daring to step over that line, even as tentatively as that. 

"You think I do, or you wouldn't ask," she says, since it's obvious. 

As much as he's dared go there, he clearly hasn't thought where he'll go with her answer; he somehow sounds strangled even before the quiet, "Um," comes out of his mouth.

But it is nearly Christmas, and they are apparently friends, and he did save her life recently… and she does want to see his reaction, so she takes pity on him. She even says it gently, with a smile. 

"Yes, Rodney. I know."

Rodney McKay speechless is rare enough: Rodney McKay gaping like a fish, even for a moment, is a true achievement, and Sam can't help the slow grin that creeps across her lips as she just waits, patiently, to see how long it takes him to process.

"I," he says eloquently, after a long few seconds. "Um. Ah. Who…?" 

Maybe she wouldn't answer, but there's no way it's just a prurient interest. Not when he's looking at her like she's just unveiled a whole new branch of physics for him with written proofs included.

"Jack," she says. "Daniel has one, too," she adds. An olive branch for him to hang onto, if he really wants to.

She can tell it means something to him to hear it, because Rodney is incapable of hiding when he's thinking something inappropriate and there's not even a hint that he's imagining her, or Daniel, on their knees or tied up or gagged or whatever else is his go-to image... and she'd bet he has one.

"Does it – I – you don't –" He's not even rambling, she realises. It was bad enough watching him try to dig back out of the hole of Jennifer thinking he was somehow hitting on them both, without blurting out _are you kidding, John's body is better than both of yours and anyway, O'Neill would tear my nuts off and Daniel would hand him the nutcrackers_. This, he doesn't even know where to _start_.

"Rodney, breathe."

Sam would not top Rodney McKay if he were the last person in the galaxy, but that doesn't mean she can't tell he'd let her. 

She very carefully doesn't mention that.

He does breathe, once. And then says, and she's never heard him so truly uncertain – not Rodney, not about anything – "That… you... do people actually do that?" 

"Well, I don't know much about people," she admits, and Rodney huffs.

"More than me, apparently." He looks very young, she thinks, when he's talking about this kind of thing. "It's not… weird? To do... to want _that_ – I mean…"

She'd be offended, but the stuttered words aren't directed at her. She knows self-judgement when she hears it. "It's not weird, Rodney." She says it as gently, as reassuringly as she possibly can. "It's just another way to have a relationship, that's all."

That look is something even rarer than his silence. "You think so?"

She laughs. "I've been doing it for ten years, Rodney. I know so." _Ah,_ she thinks, _okay_ – maybe that was a little too much to drop on him too early, the way his eyes go wild. "Listen, if you really want to talk about this, we can. I'm happy to, but off-duty. Okay?"

He looks relieved, but chagrined. "Oh – yes, of course –"

"I mean it." She shakes her wrist just enough to let her bracelet settle out in the open, and this time when she touches it, it's very deliberate. "Think about it. Just give me a call."

"I…" For a second he just looks at her. She's had any number of people look at her like that, but never Rodney – the look that says _I don't believe it but you've saved the world again, how did you even do that, you're a genius._ Who knew he could even make that face. "Thanks, Sam," he says, in a sudden rush – and then the door's barely even half open before he's gone. 

She stares after him, absently turning the bracelet on her wrist. "You're welcome, Rodney."

  


* * *

  


_…Daniel's smile is calm and relaxed and beautiful, shining up at her from where he's kneeling as Jack's hands work methodically around her. The dark blue rope is soft and silky and familiar against her skin, slightly warm now from Jack's hands and that faintest friction as he passes it back and forth, under and around and through…_

_…she's breathing slow and steady now; it's hard to keep her eyes open. Either the world is a little fuzzy or she's swaying slightly on her feet, or both. Jack is in front of her, his fingers slowly building the layers of rope up her stomach – passing the tails through the lines already wrapped down the length of her arms, each layer slowly hugging her tighter…_

_…"oh, Sam, you look beautiful," Daniel murmurs, as Jack passes the last of the rope back between her legs and separates the strands, one into the crease of each thigh. She wiggles a little to help it sit right; Jack kisses the back of her shoulder in appreciation, even as a long, quiet hum trips off her tongue at the sensation. The first line between her legs is neat, tight, perfectly central, decorated with a line of overhand knots as unevenly yet perfectly placed as if he's measured them – pressing against her anus, her sex, below her clit and above it…_

_…and then she's lying on her side on the couch, on soft blankets with a pillow under her head, but she's not sure she isn't really just floating. Her legs are both bent and bound, ankles to the backs of her thighs in an intricate futomomo tie, and Jack's looping them to the hip line of the dragonfly harness already holding her so beautifully calm and protected…_

_…Daniel's fingers are gentle, stroking her face as he watches her with those soft, sleepy blue eyes. "You look comfortable," he says, and she's pretty sure she looks high, actually. Jack's laugh is quiet and full of love as he lifts her by the shoulders – purely his own strength, he's tied her so secure that she can't help at all – and then his thigh is warm and solid under her cheek…_

_…"Just relax," Jack says, voice gone as warm and tender and caring as she ever hears him, and then he's easing the gag into her mouth and helping her settle it in place. She takes it willingly, eagerly, lets her eyes flutter closed and breathes and sinks down, feels that quiet, peaceful place swallow her up the rest of the way. As if she can do anything else but relax right now. That's completely the point, she can't_ do _anything, anything at all, she's given everything up to him, all that's left is to breathe and float and feel…_

"Shh, just relax. Shh, go back to sleep…"

_…she's forgotten what time is, or why it really matters. She feels incredible but serene, full of pleasure but no need at all. Jack's hand is playing with her hair, so, so gently; slowly parting a few strands and curling them absently round his fingers; brushing the ends lightly down her cheek, under her chin, across her lips…_

"Shh," a soft fingertip running down her cheek, gently tugging hair out of her mouth. "Go back to sleep, Sam…"

_…Daniel smiles at her whenever she opens her eyes – that gorgeous loving smile, above the collar he's so happily wearing and the soft leather leash clipped to it, leading out of view somewhere above her head to Jack's hand. He looks so lovely, kneeling there as much for her as for Jack: knees together on the pillow and sitting back on his heels, hands cuffed comfortably behind his back, cock soft in its cage and laid neatly on display for them on top of his closed thighs…_

"…think she's dreaming."

A breathed-out chuckle. "You think it's about us?"

"How often do you dream about her?"

"Mmm, probably about us…"

 _…she's so far into the most perfect subspace, it's_ wonderful _– this feeling of being all but weightless, just drifting, everything warm and hazy and unreal but so,_ so _real and yet it doesn't feel like a contradiction at all. All she can really see is Daniel, all she can hear and smell is them, and all she can feel is Jack – his fingers in her hair, his thigh against her cheek, but more than anything his love and trust and care in the collar around her neck and every line of rope holding her…_

Tender kisses on her hair, her temple, her cheek. "That's it, good girl, shh, we've got you, don't wake up…"

_…she starts to cry, just a little, after a while; calmly and quietly, just with sheer feeling, gone beyond holding anything in. She hears Daniel's quiet, "please, sir, may I move?" and Jack's soft assent; feels Daniel's soft, soft lips kissing the tears away. His whispered, "I love you, Sam," with each kiss, Jack's echo as his hand skims over her, checking lines and knots, soothing on her skin…_

"…love you, Sam…"

_…Jack slips the gag free for her, strokes her cheek with his thumb. He's so beautiful, she thinks, looking up at him. Their Jack, scarred and sarcastic and strong and perfect. She belongs to him, body and heart and soul, and it feels no different here than it does anywhere else – just deeper, stronger, more true, all the pretence and complexity peeled away. It's so simple in the end - she would protect him with every inch of her body, loves him in every possible way with the whole of her heart, trusts him to the depths of her soul._

_"I love you," she whispers, and his eyes sparkle when he smiles._

_"You wanted it off just to say that?"_

_She smiles back at him, utterly honest and high on love and so, so happy. "Yes."_

_Jack sighs, so content and pleased and loving, touches his fingers to her lips. He looks up and she knows he's looking into Daniel's eyes, that Daniel's smiling back at him just the same way she is. "Damn – god_ damn _, having the two of you like this for me, you're so perfect, how are you even real…"_

She blinks once, twice – but it's still dark, so she nuzzles a little further down into the warmth of his chest and wraps her arms around him, spreading her fingers on his back.

"Mmmm… you're warm…"

A quiet laugh rumbles under her cheek, a hand stroking her back in return. "Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm." Another body spoons back up behind her, warm strong arms tucking under her own, forearms settling above her breasts, broad hands on her shoulders. "Mmmmm…"

"Got you," Daniel murmurs – not a tease, just a calm statement of fact. "You really should go back to sleep."

"Mm." It's still dark, she really should, but she'd much rather just lie here awake with them…

Her eyes snap open: she jerks so sharply it sends a spike of pain down her leg, one that would be much worse if she could actually shoot upright in the bed the way her body tries to. 

Tries to but can't when Daniel hugs her even tighter from behind, his face pressed into her neck, his laugh bright and delighted. When Jack's hand moves in a flash from her back to her knee, holding her leg still.

"Hey, easy, easy." The grin he's aiming at her can only be described as _shit-eating._ "Don't go breaking it again, that'll be hell to explain to Keller."

She stares at him in complete shock. "You – you-"

"Are in your quarters," Daniel fills in, that oh-so-helpful voice, and she _feels it_ in the way his chest moves against her back, in his breath on her skin. 

"And _you-_ "

"On Atlantis," Jack adds, boyishly naughty and just as unrepentant.

"Merry Christmas," Daniel finishes, like they even choreographed this, the _bastards_ , and kisses her neck – except he doesn't, not quite, not exactly –

It's so familiar that she hasn't even realised. Hasn't even remembered it wasn't there when she crawled into bed alone last night. 

She can feel it, but she puts her hand up anyway, and suddenly her whole body tingles and her throat feels tight from the inside.

"How did you…?" But she knows the answer to that already – her body would let Jack do anything, even asleep. Slipping her collar on would be easy, and it's insanely erotic to think that's exactly what he's done – climbed into her bed, probably had Daniel hold her, shushed her and fed the collar slowly around her neck, fastened it closed and settled it in place, reclaimed her without even waking her…

All of that she doesn't even question. The rest, on the other hand. " _How are you here?!_ "

"Well," Daniel says, and gets to, "in nineteen-twenty-eight, an archaeological dig in Giza-" before Sam smacks him as hard as she can on the arm. She'd prefer his ass, for that, but whatever's in reach.

Jack laughs. "Let's just say you have a secret Santa."

"I'm in command," she says, helplessly. "Who the _hell_ could –"

Who has the authority to arrange a trip from Earth on Christmas Eve, has the clearance to contact Jack or Daniel directly without going through her, has the knowledge and the ability to hide it from her in all the logs and daily reports for at least the twenty-four hours of quarantine, strikes enough fear into anyone else involved to keep them silent, and has access to if not her door code then the one person Atlantis loves enough to unlock it and sneak them inside?

" _Rodney_?!"

Daniel grins into her neck, into her collar, squeezing her tight. Jack chuckles, low and definitely smug.

"That's officially the _only_ time you're allowed to say his name in our bed," he says, with that same shit-eating grin, and then his thumb is through the ring of her collar and he's kissing her as hard as she's been longing for for _months_.

  


* * *

  


" _Fuck,_ " Jack gasps, sounding as if he ran from Midway to get here, every word a hot, heavy breath of air where he's got her so wet and swollen and spread wide open for his mouth, three fingers already inside and curled up just right. "Fuck, I missed how you taste," and then he literally dives back in and his tongue is on her clit and she's coming _again_ already –

"Oh _god_ – oh god oh god oh – _Jack_ – oh _god_ don't _stop_ -"

Daniel grins in her ear. "That's it, Sam, come for us," he whispers, that sinful sultry voice that sends literal tingles down her spine. He's holding her so carefully and still so wonderfully tight, her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder, so snug between his thighs that she can feel the cage around his cock as a hard but enticing presence trying to nestle between her buttocks. He must be aching at least a little inside it, but she can't feel or even hear it in his voice: he's utterly focused on her, strong arms around her just the way she woke up an hour ago, but for the hand stretched down to hold her thigh every time she gets too carried along with Jack's enthusiastic ministrations. With her other leg lifted up over his thigh and Jack lying off-center on the bed, it's as comfortable as it can be, and right now Sam wouldn't care if she had a full-body cast to deal with – she'd find a way to have _this_.

She's hardly even caught her breath before Jack slips his fourth finger inside her, pushes deep enough that she lets out a soft scream. "Oh _god_ , Jack!"

He doesn't even look up, just licks back up from those amazing fingers right up to her clit like she's the best Christmas meal in the galaxy – in two galaxies, today. _God_ , she'd swear he's trying to get every single orgasm she's missed out on, possibly at the _same time_ –

"Oh _god…_ " She's running out of breath, too, she's not sure how he's still managing not to pass out down there when he refuses to _take his goddamned mouth off her._ "Jack, _Jack,_ oh god, _fuck_ , oh, oh _oh ohgodJack-_ "

"You should probably stop at some point," Daniel says, casually, as if he's not trailing his fingertips across her breasts while she gasps and moans and comes for the fourth – fifth? she's losing track, they're all blending together – time this morning. "We'll get into trouble if they have to find someone else to take command of Atlantis."

Sam tries to laugh, just about manages another breathless gasp. Daniel chuckles and pinches her nipple, just hard enough to make her whimper with pleasure. "And don't forget we brought other presents, too," he says, which does make Jack pause for at least a moment.

"Mmm… good point there." He curls his fingers again and flashes her a shameless grin. His mouth and cheeks and chin are glistening wet. "One more, then," and Sam just puts her head back and moans as his tongue curls back around her clit.

  


* * *

  


For ten years, practically a quarter of her lifetime, Sam has thought she's been as in love with these two guys as it's possible to be.

It turns out she hasn't had a _clue._

"I can't believe you brought me Jello." She stretches back lazily and puts her head back in his lap, opening her mouth again, and Jack grins down at her as he tips another lurid blue spoonful onto her tongue. "Mmmmm… oh my god, I swear. If you didn't own my soul already, you'd have it right now."

Jack gives her the most stunning smile, squeezes her fingers and practically bends himself in half to get close enough for a kiss. 

"You know you could have it shipped on the _Daedalus,_ " Daniel teases from his spot on the floor, where he's idly weaving his own leash back and forth through the fingers of her other hand. 

"It's just not the same." They've literally brought her not one, but a half dozen tall bowls of blue Jello, carefully packed upright in a cold storage unit, liberated straight from the SGC commissary. It's quite possibly the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for her, and they've done a lot of stupidly romantic things over the years.

Daniel laughs quietly and looks at her with soft, sparkling blue eyes. "God, I love you."

"Of course you do," she says, happily. "You brought me _Jello._ " 

Jack chuckles and offers her the spoon again.

  


* * *

  


"He misses you," Jack murmurs into her hair. Sam smiles, without looking up; she doesn't think Daniel's quite asleep, but he's either incredibly relaxed or he really is that deep already, because he doesn't even stir at Jack's voice.

Of course she knows they both miss her, but she also knows what he means: why Daniel's in quite this mood quite so easily, gone happily pliant from the second he knelt down for her. Why he's risked wearing a cage through the gate for the first time – even though it's only Atlantis, for only a day – and why Jack's allowed him to, and it's not just because she adores how he looks dressed up like that for her.

He'd do anything for her right now, she's sure. When she'd parted her legs, if a little awkwardly with her cast but just enough – not an order, just an invitation – he'd all but fallen to his knees, and they'd not even got his hands tied before he'd practically melted into her. She'd almost expected him to physically change state in front of her eyes, with the sounds he made when she sank both hands into his hair just like this…

And now his cheek is resting against the inside of her thigh and his eyes are closed, and she needs a photo of that blissful expression on his face because it's the best Christmas gift she could ask for.

"I miss him, too." She runs her fingertips lightly along his hairline, stroking the ends of his hair back with her thumb. She has no one to tell, here, how much her fingers sometimes itch for this. How often she wishes he were waiting here in her quarters at the end of a long day, because it's as relaxing for her to take control as it is to give it up, albeit in such a different way. How hard it is to be in command, yet be without the one person who obeys her without question and with complete trust, out of nothing but love. 

At least they have each other. She leans her head on Jack's shoulder. "You know, I feel like I know you a little better now," she says. To anyone else it might not make much sense, but Jack's been watching her with Daniel for a very long time now.

"Yeah?"

"It's hard, being in command."

Jack tucks her hair behind her ear, his fingers drifting to her collar. "Lonely at the top?"

"Mm." It's not news to him – she's written more letters since arriving here than she has in her life, and with Midway at least they can actually talk, sometimes – but it's good to be able to admit it like this, sitting in his arms with Daniel comfortable and comforting against her. "I miss this. It's just… uncomplicated."

He smiles, covering one of her hands with his own on Daniel's slowly nodding head. "Good word for it."

Daniel does stir at that, rubbing his cheek drowsily against her thigh, blinking a little into the daylight as if he almost doesn't expect it to still be there. "Hmm?"

"You," Jack says affectionately.

"You're so good for us," she adds. Daniel smiles, like a shrug, and kisses her thigh; it tickles just enough to make her giggle. "You're incredible, our beautiful boy, and I love you so much." It feels like so long since she got to just hold him like this, tell him so honestly how she feels. "I think I might just about have recovered from earlier," she says, teasing him with a playful smile. She tips his chin up gently with her fingertips. "And Jack was so good to bring me a Christmas gift so nicely locked up..."

Jack chuckles. "Hey, I know how you love pretty things," and well, Sam can't deny it. Sure, she'd rather have a diamond cutting blade than a diamond ring, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't take Daniel wearing a cage like this over either of those.

She loves the intricate design, the way it fits so neatly, the artistry but the beauty in the engineering of it, too. She loves the contrast of his soft skin against the smooth, dark plastic. She loves knowing how much he enjoys wearing it, how much it relaxes him and how owned it makes him feel – and she loves, too, the way his eyes sparkle when he knows she's looking at it, the way even now his cheeks go lightly pink at being called _pretty_ , especially from Jack's mouth.

"I think it's only polite of me to unwrap it," she muses, teasing him with a very obvious glance down. "For a little while, at least."

She knows Daniel doesn't miss the implication – that she'll lock him back up, when she's done, before they have to leave – when he shivers happily, and so deeply. "Whatever you want, Sam."

She toys lightly with the ends of his hair. "Such a good boy, aren't you, sweetheart?"

He breathes out so softly. "I hope so, Sam."

"You are." She shifts enough that Jack understands and helps her settle forward onto the edge of the couch, so she can lean down and kiss Daniel's upturned lips. " _My_ good boy," she murmurs, as deeply sultry as she can make it. 

He's near to trembling now, already. "Yes, Sam."

She picks up the leash hanging from his collar, winds it around her hand enough for him to feel the pull. "Tell me who you belong to," she whispers, and nips lightly at his lower lip with her teeth. Daniel makes the softest sound, pure pleasure and submission.

"You, Sam." He's slowly coming apart right here, she can see it, but his voice is steady. "You and Jack. I belong to you and Jack."

Even commanding the City of the Ancients still has nothing on hearing that, and never will. "Yes, you do." She kisses him again, so soft. "Always." Then she grins and loops the rest of the leash in her hand, runs it down his cheek. "And since you're mine, what should I do with you right now?"

Every breath is shaking, ever so slightly, but he's still almost liquid under her hands. "Anything you want to, Sam."

Jack grins broadly and offers her a helping hand up. "Right answer."

  


* * *

  


"You'll get us in trouble with Keller," Jack teases, as Sam lifts her hips a little more and just ignores her own brief wince – _god_ , Daniel feels so good inside her, it's been so _long_ and she needs him as deep as he can go –

He takes his fingers off her clit, to her low moan of complaint, and strokes gently down her thigh. "I don't want to hurt you, Sam…"

" _You_ ," she says firmly, winds his leash another turn around her palm, " _do not_ get to stop, do you understand?"

He moans, dragging in a breath, sliding back into her again. "Yes, Sam."

Jack gives her a _look_ , and she sighs playfully at him. "I'm fine, really, I'm fine, it's just awkward, that's all." 

She's not lying to them - it's not nearly as bad as it has been up to now, trying to get herself off, and the actual injury is much less painful than it was. It's only that the cast is irritatingly heavy, which does weigh it down enough to stop her over-using it but also just puts it _in the way_. Her leg aches not just under the cast but all the way up her thigh, but it's been doing that for over a week now, that's hardly news and it certainly isn't going to stop her fucking Daniel until he's in pieces – even if he's the one having to do most of the work.

Even if he does play dirty. " _Jack_ ," he says, that shorthand tone that has a whole conversation in fast-forward. Sam blows air through her teeth.

"I'm _fine-_ "

"You're hurting," Daniel says, but she can't feel too frustrated when he sounds so much like it's hurting him, too. She takes a breath and offers him a tender smile, reaching down to settle her hand on his hip.

"It's not you, sweetheart." _God_ , it really isn't. He's making her feel _so_ good. "You feel amazing, I really don't want you to stop."

Jack rubs a calming hand down Daniel's back. "You're okay, Danny. You just do what Sam tells you, leave the rest to me."

Daniel smiles with obvious relief, leans in a little further over her and takes her hand from his hip to kiss the back of her fingers. "I love you, Sam. Please don't make me hurt you, not like that." 

"Shh." She strokes her thumb across his lips. "Just keep going like that, okay? That feels… _oh,_ that feels really good, I promise..."

"It aches up here," Jack says, gentle fingers probing just below her hip bone, and she hums even as she twitches. 

"Yeah – carrying this damned cast around – _oh_ , Daniel…"

"Pretty tight here." Jack's stroking very lightly down the length of her quad, down to the top of her knee. "You okay if I-"

"Oh _god,_ yes, please." She's barely agreed before his fingers spread either side of her thigh and then his thumbs are pressing down, careful but firm, and Sam might actually be in heaven. There's erotic massage, and then there's _this._ "Oh, _yes…_ "

Jack chuckles, nudges Daniel with his shoulder. "Go on, you're all good. Get those endorphins flowing for me."

Daniel turns and gives him a sweet, smiling kiss. "Yes sir," he says, fingers finally stroking back to her clit, and Sam moans happily under their hands as she drags his head back down.

  


* * *

  


"You know, all things considered, I think I actually win."

Sam lifts her head from the side of the tub. She's not sleepy, exactly, but it's possible she might have been dozing… a little. "Hmm?"

Jack smirks, rapping a knuckle very lightly on her shin. "My cast wasn't waterproof."

She laughs and splashes him playfully. She's in what should be a ridiculously awkward position, yet right now she's about as comfortable as she's been since before she set foot on M5V-801: slouched down at the innermost point of her bathtub with her good leg tucked under her, the other leg stretched out in front. Daniel's at one outer corner in charge of the coffee pot – real coffee, freshly ground from their stash at home – and Jello dish; Jack's claimed the other, supporting her leg across both of his and carrying on that heavenly massage under the hot water and their own private sea of bubbles.

"Thank god for Ancient tech, I guess." The cast itself is a standard of Earth medicine, but the housing Jennifer provided for bathing is skin-tight at either end and supposedly waterproof for at least twenty-four hours. Sam supposes it's logical that people living in a floating city would come up with this kind of thing, but she still hasn't taken an actual bath since it happened – the Ancients having neglected to add an easy means of getting in or out of the tub with one limb half-encased in a buoyant polymer.

Maybe the Ancients had more creative ways of handling that problem; Sam certainly has.

"I wish you guys could stay." She doesn't mean it to sound as bittersweet as it does, though why she thought she could say that and make it light… "I could take a bath every day," she adds, teasing, and gets two smiles in return that are trying just as hard to be playful.

"You know if Daniel stayed, you'd never see him anyway," Jack points out. Daniel lazily flicks the peak off a bubble mountain in his general direction. "What, it's true! City of the Ancients? I'd have to stick around or you'd never even sleep."

"I could work with that." Damn it, she's not going to pretend she doesn't miss them like crazy. She reaches over for Daniel's hand, lacing her fingers back through his and pressing their palms together. "You came to Atlantis," she says, and he squeezes her fingers.

"I did."

"You haven't even-"

"Sam." He says her name so softly, but it stops her dead. Even with his cage and collar off for the moment he's still in that happily submissive headspace, but now the look in his eyes is… God, she's missed that look, like she's the only thing in the entire world he _can_ see. Like she's worth more to him than all the knowledge of the Ancients combined.

She can't move, but it doesn't matter – she barely has to tug on his hand and he comes to her, sending a slow wave of bubble-topped water sloshing against Jack's chest. She feels his knees land either side of her good one, and then his arms are around her again and her head is tucked under his chin and he's stroking her hair, his lips pressed to the top of her head.

"I love you, Sam." It's like she can hear his heart in his voice. "I love you. It's always, _always_ you, the two of you. I'm always yours. A day with you or a day on Atlantis, that's not even a choice."

She wraps her arms tight around him, swallows down the lump in her throat. Jack strokes along her thigh, slow and soothing. 

"That is true, you know. Didn't even need to put a leash on to get him straight to your door."

"Didn't mean he didn't have it right there in his pocket," Daniel murmurs, from adoring to erotic in an instant, and of course he'll know precisely what that image does to her. The two of them stepping through the gate, greeting Rodney of all people, with Daniel's collar and leash coiled neatly in the pocket of Jack's BDU pants – probably with his hand curled around them as he spoke, as they walked to her quarters…

"Just in case," Jack says, wickedly. "What if he'd had a secret plan to run off and live wild among the piers? Couldn't take that chance."

"Only on the way back," Daniel teases in return, nuzzling her cheek as he settles himself down in front of her. "Or I could just stow away here…" His tongue traces the length of her jaw. "Would you want to keep me, Sam?" He sucks gently on her earlobe. "Keep me tied up here for you?" He's practically draped on top of her now, his head settling onto her shoulder, and his voice is a perfect mix of sultry and wistful. "Or take me to your office… make me kneel under your desk for you…"

It's so hot it's dazzling, and such a sweet image of him. "Everyone would see you," she murmurs, strokes his wet hair tenderly as she looks up to meet Jack's dark eyes. "You'd have to walk with me. I'd have to put your collar on and lead you, wouldn't want you running away from me, would I?"

Daniel nuzzles into her neck, as warm and flowing against her as the bathwater. "No, Sam."

"You'd be a good boy for me, though, wouldn't you? Walk all the way through the gate room with everyone looking. Everyone seeing you." Her voice is turning rough. She's not sure if she's going to fall asleep or need Jack's fingers in her before they get out. "Everyone watching you kneel when I told you to, just for me."

"I'd be good for you," Daniel murmurs, hazy and happy in her arms. "So good, Sam. Whatever you wanted."

It's a fantasy that will never come true, so she can just go wherever she likes with it. "I'd want you next to me all day," she muses, rubbing the back of his neck. "You'd have to come with me to all those boring meetings, I'm afraid," and Daniel smiles into her neck, Jack chuckling knowingly.

"Don't see why you should get first dibs. You know the misery of Pentagon meetings."

"Hmm, true." And she does love Jack, after all. "Share, then. On his knees in my office, under the table for your meetings."

Daniel wriggles against her, like a cat suddenly getting double the belly rubs. "Mmm, oh god, yeah…"

"I'd come collect you," Jack says, conveniently skipping over the logistical details of that just the way Sam has. It's their fantasy, she tells herself. They can have whatever they want. "I'd have to lead you, too. Wouldn't want you getting lost somewhere in the Pentagon."

"No, sir," Daniel murmurs.

"Sam's good at being patient, but you know how bored I get." Jack shifts himself over just enough to rest a hand on Daniel's head and stroke him along with her. Sam just feels _warm_. "You'd have to keep me occupied."

"Suck your cock for you," Daniel mumbles, just a little slurred with pleasure. "All day, every meeting, whenever you want…"

Sam kisses him lightly on the temple. "Such a good boy. Let him play with you, too?"

"Whatever you want, sir, Sam…"

"I'd want to." She's not surprised that he's rock hard when she slides her hand down under the water. "You'd have to stand up for me, though. Maybe I'd sit you on my desk? It'd be much easier to reach," she gives a slow, gentle stroke to his cock, "to play with what's mine. Would you like that?"

Daniel purrs, and she feels the surge of triumphant joy – he's floating now, in a way that has nothing to do with the water lapping at the back of his neck. She flashes Jack a grin. 

"You'd have a cage on," she assures him, and Daniel purrs louder, letting out a sweet little moan on the breath out. "Nice and tight. Maybe _just_ a cage," she teases, and he gasps with a soft, in-drawn;

"Ohhhh, _Sam…_ " and his cock pulses in her hand, slow like it's actually being lazy about it. He shakes against her, and she just holds him gently and lets the pleasure take him. "Oh, _Sam,_ oh god, _Jack…_ "

"Good boy," Jack says, voice full of praise. "Good boy, that's it. Come for us. Come like you would for Sam," he meets her eyes, his own glittering dark with impish pleasure, "like you would all spread out across her desk, all hers with everyone on Atlantis seeing you."

Daniel whines and presses his face into her neck, bucking into her hand. It's a little weird not to feel his come land on her skin, but she doesn't need it to feel exactly how huge it is – he doesn't even tense, just shudders and moans, cock still pulsing over and over until it's just the faintest quiver in her hand and he finally _sighs_ , a long contented sound she hasn't heard like this in way too long.

"My beautiful boy," she murmurs in his ear, as his body tries to somehow get even more relaxed and melted into her. "You're so beautiful when you come for me. I'd love to show you off like that."

Daniel just purrs happily and nuzzles at her like he really is going to stay here with her forever. Jack grins, curls his hand behind her neck and kisses her. 

"Well, that was fun."

Sam giggles. "You think so, you're the one who's going to have to get us out."

  


* * *

  


Sam makes sure to set Daniel's cage neatly on the table right beside the bed, next to the ibuprofen, before she climbs in. It's vastly unlikely any of them forget that she's promised to lock him back up before breakfast, but she's not taking any chances.

Sleeping with the cast is still an exercise in discomfort, but after Jack's talented fingers and such a long soak, she's pleasantly surprised at how little her thigh and hips protest when she settles on her side with her good leg on top. The bed is still a sex-rumpled mess from the day's endeavors but she honestly couldn't care less, especially when Jack climbs over her and spoons up against her back. 

There's a soft, refreshing breeze from the balcony, the door they've left ajar; the brine-salt smell of the ocean wafts in over the faintest sound of waves somewhere far below. Jack is so warm, so familiar, his arms around her and his forefinger idly playing with the ring of her collar, making her smile.

"So… good day, huh?"

She burrows into the pillow, back into his arms. "It was perfect. Thank you."

"Well, you know me, I'm not one for false modesty," she giggles and he grins into her neck, "but it's McKay you should probably thank. Never thought I'd see the day, but he's turned out pretty damned loyal to you." His finger slips through the ring, a firm but gentle hold. "I'm so proud of you," he breathes in her ear. Sam lets her eyes fall closed, just sinking into the sensation and the sound of his voice, _that_ voice. "You're doing an amazing job here. You make me proud every damned day. You always have." 

It's everything she wants to hear, and she knows it's the absolute truth. "Thank you," she whispers back. He must be able to hear the lump in her throat, but he just kisses her ear, her cheek, her mouth.

"And you're _mine_ ," he murmurs, between kisses, words that are so full of that pride. "You're mine, aren't you, Sam?"

"Yes, sir." She'll always be his. A galaxy between them makes no difference at all. "Always."

He kisses a grin onto her lips. "I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in the galaxy." 

"Two," she murmurs back. He laughs, stroking her hair back.

"Try all of them."

"Romantic." 

His gaze flicks up and that inescapable grin broadens, heat flaring in his eyes. "Oh yeah." He shifts back to let her up. "Definitely all of 'em."

She feels his cock stir, even as she turns back to look, and the moment she does she knows exactly how it feels. Daniel's never anything less than gorgeous, but the sight of him unashamedly nude and already hard, walking straight over to their bed wearing their collar, the leash he's worn for her all day hanging from the silver padlock and draped lightly over his forearm…

The moment he's close enough she reaches out for it and tugs gently. Her soft, "Come here, sweetheart," is all it takes and then he's under the sheets with them, in her arms, kissing her deep and tender.

"You still good?" Jack asks it in her ear, close enough that Daniel will definitely hear it too. She smiles back from Daniel's mouth.

"Oh my god, yes."

He chuckles, leaning over her shoulder to claim a quick kiss of his own. "Sweet. This one over Daniel," his hand stroking down the back of her left leg, urging her to lift it. "You get comfortable first."

It's almost annoyingly easy to shift position with them both helping; she has to wonder if she has a case to deny their trip back to Earth, if she can get Jennifer to sign off on medical grounds. It's even more tempting an idea when Daniel presses into her, so hard and full, especially when he adjusts his own position rather than hers to get as deep as he can.

"Mmm…" Oh, he's beautiful inside her. "Oh, that's so good, stay right there."

Daniel smiles at her with bright, sparkling eyes. "Yes, Sam," he says, playful and contented enough that she laughs and snuggles into his chest. She's ended up half leaning into him, her left knee bent high and hooked over his hip, but his hand is warm under her thigh to keep it there without any effort and it's just like having a living body pillow – one that holds her warm and comfortable as Jack's slicked-up fingers slide between her buttocks.

"Someone's keeping in practice," he teases, when she takes two fingers easily. She grins, kissing along Daniel's collarbone.

"Mm, you know I am..." She can't exactly come right out and say _I bought a pair of dildos to fuck myself like you do it_ even when they're on a private channel, but then words have been optional between them for a lot of years. It's still not even _close_ to the same as this.

"Such a _good_ girl," Jack murmurs, kisses the nape of her neck and scissors his fingers on the out stroke. Sam isn't sure what's more erotic, what he's doing or the way he says it, so dirty and obviously pleased with her. "And so relaxed," and this time it's three fingers but she just breathes, lets herself feel, and it's just as easy to take when Jack knows exactly how she likes it. He's just working those incredible fingers into her ass, deep enough to stretch her a little more each time, and she doesn't exactly need this much effort but she's never going to complain, not when he keeps murmuring, "good girl, that's it, my good girl," as if he'll never stop saying it. 

And then it's not his fingers at all, and Daniel holds her just a little tighter, and Sam moans with pure abandon through that whole long, slow, careful thrust until Jack's entirely inside her. 

" _Oh…_ " They're both right there, _right here_ and she's so perfectly, wonderfully _full_. 

Jack curls around her back, a warm and heavy weight holding her against Daniel's chest, his face nestled into her shoulder. "Oh, yeah, there we go..." 

This time yesterday, her Christmas Day involved a broken leg and a brief subspace call for company. Now she's sated and happy and held in the most intimate way between the two men she loves most in the universe: the perfect way to end a perfect day. She doesn't only feel full, she feels _home_. 

Tomorrow Jack will take her collar off, they'll gate back to Earth and she'll go back to simply being Colonel Carter, Commander of the Atlantis Expedition – but right now, for tonight, she's going to fall asleep with them both inside her and for the first time in weeks nothing aches at all.

Even if it's only for one day out of the year, it really doesn't matter where she is as long as she can have this.


	12. 2008

Sam's turning forty at the end of the year that Atlantis returns home, that she gets offered her own permanent command of a spaceship - "Never not going to be cool," Jack says over breakfast, for the hundredth time since he gave her the official letter - and that Cassie graduates, valedictorian from Johns Hopkins majoring in neuroscience.

It's the first year Cass can't make it home for the Christmas break; instead, Janet's flown out to spend the holidays just the two of them at the Cassie's first apartment, a cute little waterfront studio in Baltimore that Sam and Daniel have promised to visit the next weekend they're at the apartment in DC. She thinks Janet may actually have sent more photos than Cassie, full of brightly colored lens flares and happy smiles.

Sam's ecstatic for her, and so proud - their little girl really is all grown up, she has her own place, she's going to have a doctorate before too long. It's all so far from a scratchy blanket and a desperate prayer in a cold abandoned bunker with Jack's voice over the intercom, or each of them taking watch beside the brand new bed in Janet's spare room just to get their new charge to sleep through the night.

At least with Atlantis currently on Earth and only a few weeks to go until she takes her new command, she's busy enough – and there's enough of a party going on – that the passage of time mostly slips her mind… except in the quiet moments, anyway.

"Hasn't changed too much since you left, has it?"

She blinks away from her thoughts, away from the clear winter sky over the lights of the Golden Gate Bridge and looks over her shoulder. "Only the view."

John chuckles, comes to lean on the rail beside her. He looks good. Happy. There's a smile in his eyes and a definite hint of less than complete sobriety about him, even without the beer bottle in his hand. "Good party," he says, dangling the bottle over the railing.

Sam thinks of the people inside – the control room and offices swathed in the tackiest of festive decorations, the giant tree towering over the gate – and feels warm, even in her sleeveless, low-cut dress out here in the chill December air. "Yeah."

"Good to be home." He takes a swig of beer and offers her the bottle, but she waves it off. She's drunk a couple already and there's a pleasant buzz that's not alcoholic going round her head anyway.

She could ask if he really thinks of Earth as home now, or if he's planning to stay, or a dozen other things, but she doesn't. Those are the useless questions that don't get asked, around these people, because everyone knows. How it changes you, this job – this life. How it makes you already understand the answers to so many things without needing to ask.

Atlantis isn't staying: it might be a long way from official, but Sam does have a certain amount of insider knowledge. Jack will pull rank on the IOA if he has to, and where Atlantis goes, John will go. Sam will be back in the City of the Ancients again, she's sure; but never here like this, on its original home world, under a sky spattered with these same stars.

"There's the birthday girl," Jack says, from behind her, pulling her back out of her head again. She looks over her shoulder again and smiles.

"Sir," John says, with a hint of a beer bottle salute. Daniel clinks glass with him and takes the spot at the rail between them, leaning against her even as he sticks his head over to look down at the midnight black of the bay below. Sam leans, too, like an ace against a king. Daniel kisses her cheek and puts his free arm around her, his head on her shoulder, tugging her in close. 

"Nice escape," Jack says, sliding his arms around her waist from behind. He's warm up against her back, trapping Daniel's arm between them. She smirks.

"It's a nice evening. I thought I'd get some fresh air."

"And miss out on all the singing." 

"I already got 'Happy Birthday'," she protests, worming her fingers between his and Daniel's.

"Oh, we're way past 'Happy Birthday'," Daniel says, just as the noise level from inside suddenly rises and it's easy to make out Ronon's deep baritone alongside Cam's, and Teal'c's, the strains of something that may in a past life have been _Little Drummer Boy_ and what sounds suspiciously like something made into a makeshift drum against its will.

As quick as it rises, it's thankfully muffled again, to a faint but steady rumble of sound over the quiet of the night.

"My ears are never going to recover," Rodney grumbles, kicking the closed door, and Daniel chuckles under his breath. Sam looks past him as John turns, this time, and the night is quiet enough that she hears the clink of him balancing his beer neatly on the railing.

"Rodney, play nice."

Rodney makes another token grumble, but his, "Is there something in it for me?" is decidedly closer to teasing than it could be. John flashes her a grin, complete with eye rolls, past Daniel's shoulder as he turns around completely. 

"Rodney."

"Hmm."

"Get over here and enjoy the view."

This time it's Jack who snickers in her ear. She grins, leaning her weight into him, squeezing his fingers with one hand and Daniel's with the other. Beyond the warm web of arms around her she watches long enough to see John drag Rodney in close for a kiss, before she nuzzles into Daniel's neck with her eyes closed and listens to the view of home.

  


* * *

  


Christmas morning arrives somewhere between Zelenka breaking out the moonshine and Vala trying to demonstrate a perfect striptease out of her slinky black satin number, to Cam's eternal mortification. 

Sam feels a little like she should help him, but a half glass of that moonshine has made her definitely tipsy and she's in danger of wobbling out of her perch on Daniel's lap if she unlocks her arms from around his neck – and if she's not holding him down, he's likely to tip out of his chair anyway. Besides, she's having way too much fun watching the catastrophe unfold.

Vala manages to slip one arm all the way free of a spaghetti strap, despite Cam's best efforts: Sam catches sight of Teal'c's impassive expression and single, barely-raised eyebrow and collapses into a fit of giggles, buries her face in Daniel's neck.

Daniel's hand tightens on her waist and he nuzzles into her hair with contagious giggles of his own, much more obviously drunk than she is.

"Lightweight," she teases, pressing her lips to the soft spot behind his ear. Jack snorts, his wrist resting on hers as he toys with the ends of Daniel's hair.

"You'd think someone who taught Skaara to make that hooch would be able to drink the stuff." He takes a swig of his own from the glass they're sharing and coughs. 

"Good stuff, huh?" John asks, sinking into a chair across the table. Jack coughs again.

"Oh, super smooth," he says, and Daniel's laugh in her ear is soft with shared memory. 

Across the room she spots Teal'c finally taking pity on Cam, broad hands sliding under Vala's arms to hold up what's now essentially a strapless dress. A non-negative number of airmen seem both interested and embarrassed in the proceedings. Sam would be more concerned if she didn't know for certain that Vala is considerably less intent on stripping and much more sober than she looks - she's just having her best time right now and Sam's not one to get in the way of another woman's fun.

"Don't feel like joining in?" Jack teases, leaning in to hold the glass to her lips. Sam grins.

"Later," she promises wickedly, locks eyes with him as he tips a shot of Radek's prize 120% proof rubbing alcohol into her mouth.

"Vixen," Jack murmurs, and darts in for an extremely alcoholic kiss. Her mouth chases his when he leans back, and she realises she's somehow slipped down Daniel's lap so much she's in danger of landing on the floor if he accidentally lets go – which given his current state of sobriety isn't unlikely. She smiles at Jack, wraps her arms tighter around Daniel's neck again and hoists herself back up, presses her back to his chest and her ass right into his crotch –

He's only wearing slacks, with briefs underneath, and immediately his cage is a hard shape digging into her right buttock. Daniel clutches her tight and moans into her hair, like he knows he should keep it quiet even if he's too drunk to remember why. "Saaaam…" 

She grins, suddenly feeling wickedly mischievous to be sitting here on top of him: in the Atlantis gate room, surrounded by people who have no idea that Doctor Daniel Jackson of SG-1, Head of Archaeology and Linguistics for the SGC, has his gorgeous cock locked up soft and unusable by her own and Jack's keys, right here underneath her. "Hmmm…?"

"Don't," he mutters, while putting a clumsy hand on her thigh and practically rubbing himself against her ass. 

"Don't what?" she asks innocently, puts a foot more firmly on the floor for leverage and pushes back against him. Daniel lets out a tiny, utterly adorable whine against the back of her neck.

"That's _nice,_ " he mutters more accusingly. "Don't do – don't do the nice thing, not s'posed to do the nice thing when there's people…"

Sam can't help it, she snorts with laughter and very subtly yet deliberately grinds her ass right down onto his cock. He's drunk enough that she'll be surprised if he can even try and get hard, but that obviously doesn't mean it doesn't feel good to have her tease him.

"No one can tell," she murmurs. "Not when you're all locked up."

His fingers dig into her hip. " _Sam._ "

"Beg me." She leans in as if to kiss him, lips brushing his. "Beg me not to tease you in front of all these people."

Daniel whimpers under his breath, but his eyes are so bright with joy. "Please, Sam, please don't. Please don't…"

"Mmmm, are you sure?"

He looks like he wants to lift her off him just to sink to his knees. "No," he murmurs, with that sudden laugh and an almost self-conscious smile. "My god, no. Want you to tease. Wanna do really _bad_ things in front of all these people."

She grins, puts her mouth against his ear and whispers, as hot and sensual as she can make it on three beers, a fuzzy number of Jello shots and half a glass of mostly pure ethanol, "Me too."

"Me three," Jack puts in, as if he's been listening the whole time, because of _course_ he has, and drags them both to their feet. "C'mon. City this big, there's gotta be plenty of private little spots for some late night fishing, right?"

Daniel giggles madly, and Sam can't help joining in. Sure, she'll be back in the City of the Ancients again, but never on a night like this… and the fishing in San Francisco Bay is supposed to be spectacular, after all.

  


* * *

  


Sam wakes up on her fortieth birthday and opens her eyes –

It's totally dark. There's a faint band of pressure around her head, and her eyelashes brush satin when she blinks.

Jack's mouth lands gently on hers, curved into a playful smile. "Hey, birthday girl," he murmurs, hands framing her face just as tenderly and lifting her head up, drawing her into a deep, slow good morning kiss. 

"Mmm…" Her hands seem to be free, so she reaches up and rakes her fingers into his hair to pull him down. "Hey," she murmurs back, when he finally breaks for air. He's entirely on top of her, a warm and heavy weight lying between her thighs, smelling of toothpaste and coffee. She grins up at him wickedly, if blindly. "Is that my birthday present?"

Jack chuckles, brushing his lips back to hers, grinding playfully against her. "It could be."

"I'm a lucky girl," she teases, trailing her fingers down his spine. He's fully hard, pressed right into the crease of her thigh, and he groans as soon as she wraps her legs around him to pull him even closer. "Mmm, Jack…"

"What do you want for your first course?" He's just as teasing, and clearly not on the topic of food. He nuzzles under her jaw, licking at her neck. "Want my mouth on you? Want me to fuck you? Toy box is open, I can get anything you want."

 _First course_ makes her tingle all over and she wriggles her hips, pushing against him. The blindfold is heightening every touch, the way his skin moves against hers and the heat of his breath on her neck, in her ear. There are so _many_ options, but a good starter should be a simple and delicious warm-up, in Sam's opinion. 

"Fuck me, please, sir," she says, a little more breathy than she intends. Jack sucks her earlobe, nips quick and sharp to make her moan.

"And where do you want me to fuck you, Sam?"

 _God,_ his voice is always so gorgeous when he's being filthy with it. When he's obviously ordering her, without even a word of it, to reply in kind. "Wherever you like, sir."

"Oh, no." He sucks at her neck, slow and hard, until she has to moan and arch into his mouth because it feels so good. "Your birthday," he whispers, hot in her ear. "You choose. Tell me where you want me."

If she could have him everywhere right now, she would. Surely on her birthday she shouldn't have to choose. "In my ass," is what she goes with. "Please, sir," and then because it's her _birthday_ and she's not going to settle, and surely he's expecting her to be inventive, "and your fingers inside me?"

Jack groans like she's just given him the best present he can think of. "Oh hell, yeah. How many?"

She has to laugh. "What is this, the build-your-own salad bar?"

He's grinning again when he kisses her. "You just wait until Daniel's back."

"Mmmm…" That's delicious to hear in that voice, to make her think of both of them and _first course_ , especially when she's blindfolded and held down by his weight like this. "What's he doing?"

Jack nips sharply at her ear again, hard enough this time to make her yelp and arch into him. "None of your business right now," he says, teasing in any number of ways. "Right now, _you_ just need to decide how full you're gonna be when I make you come."

She whimpers at that. "Three fingers, please, sir," she murmurs, dips her head just enough to tell him she's looking down, even though he can't see it.

He makes a pleased sound against the curve of her neck, his tongue flicking at her skin. "Good girl," he murmurs back, chuckles when she shivers. "Are you getting wet for me?"

As if he can't tell. "Yes, sir."

"Am I gonna need extra lube?"

She swallows a little tightly. "Not sure… maybe not if you go slow."

"Maybe if I put my fingers in you first?" He's making his way along the line of her shoulder in slow, open-mouthed kisses that leave a trail of deliciously cool skin behind. "Maybe if I make you come, you'll get wet enough to use on your ass too?"

"Maybe if you put your fingers in me now," she says, as steady as she can make it, "and go _really_ slow…"

Jack's next groan cracks in his throat, his hand moving to slide down between them. "Maybe you're wet enough already, huh?"

His fingers ghost over her clit, light and such an incredible tease for a mere second's touch. "Yes, sir…" Those fingers sliding into her, just two and just gently but right down to his knuckles. "Mmm, oh, yes, please."

"You are," he murmurs, a low purr. His mouth moves back, lips grazing the shell of her ear. "Just enough, if we go nice and slow, I think. Aren't you a good girl, getting so wet for me so quickly?"

"I want you," she says, because it's obviously true. His fingers are moving now, slow thrusts in and out, all the way into her each time. "Please, sir..."

"I'm going to rub this all over my cock." His other hand wraps under her shoulder, curls behind the back of her neck to hold them together and keep her head there, her ear right under his utterly filthy mouth. "Get myself all wet from you, put my fingers back inside you," a third finger pushes in alongside the first two and she moans, arching her back against him, "open your ass up for me, make you wet enough to take my cock all the way inside…"

She digs her fingers into his hair, clenches her thighs around his hips. " _Jack…_ "

"God, you feel so good, Sam." She knows he means it, too, even though it's only his fingers fucking her right now. "So good for me." His fingers curl up as he pulls them back, a line of pressure inside her that feels perfect right until suddenly she's so empty, so _needing_ – 

"So _wet_ ," Jack breathes, and she feels his hips moving, the head of his cock brushing against her from between his tight fingers. "Fuck, that's good, that's good..."

He doesn't linger, even over getting himself wet with her: it's seconds and then three fingers drive back into her and she gasps, rocking up into his hand. "Oh, _please_ , sir."

"You ready for me?"

She drags in a shaking breath. "Yes sir, please, I want you –" wet fingers rub deep between her ass cheeks, slowly circling down until he's pressing them _in_ – " _oh_ , yes, sir…"

Jack chuckles, hot and so beautifully erotic right in her ear. "Yeah? That feel good?"

"You know it does." He knows exactly, of course he does. He knows how it feels, fingers gently opening her up; the stretch, the pressure and resistance, especially with only that barest amount of lube. " _Please,_ sir?"

Jack makes a noise that's not even a groan, just an incoherent _fuck_. "You sure?"

She's so sure. "I'm green, let me feel it, let me feel you, please?"

Jack shifts just enough to kiss her temple, soft and loving, voice switching from teasing to tender but still just as firmly in control for her. "Whatever you want," he murmurs, cock hard and pushing between her cheeks. "Whatever you want," and he's lining up, pressing in –

"Oh – _Jack_ –"

"Shh, that's it, just relax," and she does, just exactly as he tells her - it's not slick, not even really wet enough, such a stretch, but familiar and hot and intense as he pushes, and _pushes…_

"Oh, oh yes, _sir_ ," she gasps out, the _sir_ bright and bursting with pleasure as the head of his cock slips inside her. Jack groans into her ear and she digs her heels into the back of his thighs, trying to push him deeper. "Yes, Jack, please, you feel so good, keep going…"

"Whatever you want," he murmurs in her ear, pushing so, so slow. "Anything you want. You want my fingers too?" 

She's holding onto him so tight, but she's starting to ache and none of it feels _enough_. " _Yes,_ sir, please, please, inside me-" It's nearly a sob, frustration building under her skin. " _Please,_ I need you _inside_ me…"

A soft, "Shh," that's almost a chuckle as he switches hands, takes a moment to cradle her closer and tighter. Her aching moan gets swallowed by his mouth on hers, his fingers opening her up, filling her up – and then he's thrusting again, careful but insistent, cock and fingers both pushing deeper into her in perfect sync. "Slow, nice and slow, stay like that for me, there we go…"

She whimpers and moans and then shudders with a long, shaky breath as he bottoms out, fingers so deep, balls against her ass and cock all the way inside her. "Oh my god, yes, that's _so_ good, sir…" She's so full, even though it's only him, but between his cock and fingers it feels like so much and it's just enough to let her breathe again. She wonders, not for the first time, if it's just her that feels like this – if it's just natural to her, or something that's built inside her over the years with them, the need for so much more before she really feels this pure, carnal satisfaction inside.

Not that she really cares, in the end. She can have it, whatever the reason, and that's all that really matters.

"Tell me when you want me to fuck you," Jack murmurs, and she smiles at him even as she moans.

"Soon," she promises, breathless, trembling. "Just – I want to – just let me feel you, first?" The blindfold is still over her eyes and she still can't see him at all, but _god_ she's _feeling_ so much…

"Whatever you want." He buries his face in her neck, chuckles hot into her already flushed skin. "You're so tight, good girl, so fucking tight," as if she's doing it on purpose, as if it's worth rewarding how desperately her body wants to take him into her. "You take as long as you want, I'm good with that," and Sam has to laugh at the mix of mischief and slightly strained pleasure in his voice. 

She can't resist teasing him, with the most sensual voice she can find. "Do I feel good, sir?"

Jack groans, a half-laugh of his own. "You always feel _great_ ," he murmurs, kisses her neck, sucks at her earlobe. "You know you do. So good. Are you full enough?"

"Mmm, yes sir, thank you, sir," she breathes out, arching her neck to give him all the possible room to play. The way he kisses along the edges of her collar, the heat of his mouth so close to the warm, comfortable leather he put on her when they came home last night – it's wonderful, as deeply satisfying as his weight holding her down and his body filling hers. She hums at the feeling, threads her fingers back into his hair. "Fuck me, Jack," she hears herself moan, before she's even aware of being ready, sinking down into the feeling of him on top of her and inside her and all over her. It's like something lets go inside her, this beautiful sense of giving in to him entirely that emerges as a stream of pleading, teasing, begging, all flooding off her tongue. "Please fuck me, sir, fuck me, I want you, I want it _hard_ , please, _fuck_ me-"

"Oh yeah," is all she gets, instant like she's flicked a switch, and then he's doing exactly that – hard enough to rock the bed beneath them, his cock pounding into her ass with that hint of resistance every time, his fingers even harder and faster –

His thumb finds her clit and she gasps, clenching her fingers in his hair. "Oh god, oh my _god_ , yes, please, Jack, _please-_ "

"Remember to ask," he breathes in her ear.

"I will, I will, I –" Her voice breaks into pieces, cries of pure pleasure she can't keep inside with every thrust. He's rubbing and fucking and fingering her, mercilessly, like he wouldn't stop even if she begged him – he's _everywhere_ and it's so good, it's _so_ good, it's _everything_ –

" _Jack_ -" She presses her face into his neck, panting, shaking, rocking desperately up against his cock and his hand. His hand tightens on the back of her neck, a squeeze just the other side of gentle, and that's so, so almost enough, she's so close... " _Jack_ , oh god, oh, please, _sir_ , can I come - _please_ can I come _pleasesirpleasesirpleasesir-_ "

"Yeah, good girl, _come_ ," he murmurs, rough in her ear, and that's all it takes to send her right over the edge with a shattered scream. She comes so hard it's like fire burning through her, shocks of pleasure jerking her whole body underneath him, and it's only made better by the weight of him holding her down. 

Jack groans like she's the best thing on Earth and any other planet. He doesn't even break rhythm, just starts panting in her ear - "Come for me, Sam, good girl, keep going, come on, that's it -" and keeps fucking her so hard, fingers buried all the way inside her and pressing at _just_ the right spot, his thumb hard and still relentless on her clit, all of it so intense she can't even start to come down. All she can do is tremble and cling to him, keep coming for him, keep _taking_ it. He's shaking on top of her, whip-tight, so tense, she can feel how close he is and hear it in the hot growl in her ear. "That's my girl, that's it, good girl, such a _good_ girl - ah _, fuck_ –" 

She's still hypersensitive everywhere, and feeling his cock pulse inside her ass right at that moment is _incredible._ That hot, wet spill of him coming inside her is so good she moans and shudders all over again, the pressure of Jack's thumb still on her clit and the sound of him breaking – _god,_ he's so gorgeous, it feels like he's taken her over entirely, every breath of her...

"That looked like a hell of a good morning," Daniel's voice murmurs out of nowhere, very close and full of pleasure. 

She sobs desperately, still clenching around Jack's fingers, reaching toward him. " _Daniel_ -"

His mouth presses to hers, oddly cool fingers trailing across her skin. Sam grabs his hair and yanks him down, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, kissing him rough and messy: Daniel's answering moan is loud and eager, so much so that Jack grins wolfishly against her skin as she swallows it down. 

His fingers slowly pulling out makes her echo that moan, her own gripping tighter in Daniel's hair. Jack chuckles, so clearly pleased, landing playful kisses wherever he can reach and stroking her gently down through the tremors as he pulls back out of her. 

"Your turn now," he murmurs, after, wicked enough and loud enough that Daniel hears it and moans even louder. "He's all yours, birthday girl. Do whatever you want," he nuzzles in and joins the kiss, licking at their lips, "just _don't_ take the blindfold off. Understood?"

Daniel's panting as she finally lets him up, peppered with soft little mewls of pleasure at the way she's still holding him by the hair. "Yes, sir," she gasps out, completely out of breath and grinning madly at them both. She pulls Daniel's head down and his mouth zeroes in on her nipple without any other hint, wet and warm and lovely. "Softly, sweetheart," she murmurs, too wrung out for much more than that, and that little hum makes her smile as he obediently settles in. "Mmmm, that's nice…"

"We've got plans for lunch." Jack kisses her. "But you just do whatever you want 'til then, okay?"

"I'm all yours, Sam." Daniel kisses, too, lightly on the tight, tingling peak of her nipple. "All yours," with another soft kiss. "All yours," with every touch of his lips as he's licking and kissing across to her other breast, gentle fingers stroking up her sides. 

"Mmm…" God, what better way to wake up than this. Her nipples are aching for more already, there's a slight but very pleasant soreness in her ass, and her clit throbs faintly with pleasure even though Daniel's tongue is half her body away. Mostly, though, she feels wet and sticky between her thighs, between her cheeks – lovely enough, but something she has an even more satisfying solution for.

"All mine, hmm?"

Daniel sucks at her nipple, swirling his tongue delightfully around it. "Mm-hmm."

She laughs softly at the contentment in that sound. "Then put that gorgeous mouth to work," she says, spreads her legs wider and pushes his head down just enough to give him the right idea. "Everywhere," she adds, just to be clear, and Daniel moans again. 

"Oh god, yes, Sam…" He starts kissing his way down her body, soft little licks and nibbles the way he knows will feel _so_ good. "Mmm…" His tongue dips into her belly button, making her giggle; she feels him smiling when his mouth presses back to her skin. "You smell so good. Smell of Jack, too." He sucks at that sensitive spot right below her hip bone, trails his tongue across it. "Mmm, everywhere? Really?"

They're really hell bent on making her say it, today. They should know better. Sam laughs. "Yes, sweetheart. Lick Jack's come out of my ass, would you? He came _very_ hard, it's just leaking out of me, and it's kind of sticky…"

Daniel somehow laughs and whimpers at the same time, briefly buries his face against her thigh. " _Yes,_ Sam, god, yes, any time you want." He really laughs, then, kisses right above her clit. "God, I love you. I'll do anything you want. Lick you everywhere, make you feel so good..." Another kiss, even closer, his voice dropping to a breathy plea. "Oh, Sam… can I suck your clit, please? I want to make you come. Please can I make you come?"

Her clit jumps at just the sound of it, the thought of his skilled mouth where Jack's thumb has already made her so sensitive. And it seems only fair to let them both give her such lovely birthday gifts. "Since you asked so nicely," she teases, and Daniel hums with such a deep satisfaction just from that as he settles between her thighs. "But clean me up first."

"I'll make another mess," he points out, audibly smiling, even though he's obediently licking a first stripe up her inner thigh with the flat of his tongue.

She grins, sinking her fingers back into his hair. "Then you'll have to clean me up again, won't you?"

She doesn't have to see or feel it to know he's grinning back at her. "Yes, Sam." 

  


* * *

  


"Guys." Sam can't help laughing as they lead her down the steps of the front porch, Daniel on her left and Jack on her right, each with one hand in hers and one on her elbow. "Guys, come on…"

"Nope," Jack says. He's grinning wide enough to split his face in half, she can hear it. "Nearly there."

"Nearly _where-_ " But she stops at the sound of the garage door opening. Daniel steers her slightly toward him, the ground under her sneakers changing from gravel drive to concrete floor. 

Why on Earth they're going into the garage, and from the driveway, she has no idea. They've both refused to let her take the blindfold off in the hour since getting up, and it's been the most…. the most _tantalising_ hour she can remember for a long time, even beyond the two she spent beneath them both before that. Daniel's sure, gentle hands guiding her out of bed to the bathroom, setting her down on the toilet, handing her a loaded toothbrush. The soft washcloth in those hands washing her clean all over in long, slow, hot strokes, just as thoroughly as he did with his tongue. The smells of coffee and fresh-made pancakes as he helped her dress; the sounds of Jack cutting each morsel, the sweet-syrup and salty bacon taste on her tongue as they took turns feeding her, a piece at a time, in between coffee-filled kisses…

And then they'd stood her up from the breakfast bar, led her down the hall and down the steps, and now she's standing in the middle of the garage with the chill air and warm sun on her back.

"Okay." Jack sounds like he's taking a breath. "Ready?"

"I don't know what I'm ready _for_ ," she says, laughing. Daniel chuckles, a warm arm settling around her waist as he kisses her cheek.

"All right, then," Jack says, his fingers light on her head as he lifts the blindfold. "Shouldn't be too bright," he says, smoothing the few strands of hair caught in the band.

Sam opens her eyes.

It is bright, but only from the daylight at her back: the garage is enough in shade that she doesn't get the instant stab of light-sensitivity she's expecting. That doesn't mean it's not lit well enough for her to recognise exactly what's standing there in front of her Indian, propped on its kickstand as if someone just hopped off the seat right in the middle of the floor. 

Sam still sometimes wonders what it would have been like, if they hadn't fallen together that first year. If they'd stuck to the regs the way they should have, kept that professional boundary clear between them until the chain of command finally broke. It's a thought that's popped up each time something changes that erases those official lines, just a little bit more – when they first split the team, when she took Atlantis, now the _Hammond..._

Oh, she's sure they'd always have been close - they've been through too much together as a team for them not to be the people she trusts most in the world, always, no matter what. But Major Samantha Carter, Air Force officer, theoretical astrophysicist and professional geek – she's not the Sam Carter who learned to lockpick for fun before she even turned eighteen. The Sam who feels sexy and confident in low-cut shirts and slinky sundresses as much as leather pants and BDU boots; whose ego adores having a man on their knees for her as much as her body craves being tied up and held down and _filled_. Who's a certified adrenaline junkie in lust with the feel of a powerful engine between her thighs, who keeps two personally overhauled, finely-tuned motorcycles to her name.

Well. Three, apparently.

However close Sam could ever be to her team, this is way beyond that. This a gift from her partners, in life and love and motorcycle riding, and it's…

"She's _beautiful,_ " she breathes, soft and amazed. Her hand goes to the edge of the windshield, the first place she can think to touch.

"She's yours," Jack says, entirely unnecessarily. 

The bodywork is that distinctive bright scarlet, the pannier highlights pure white, all absolutely spotless over that chrome-moly frame and exposed black-and-steel of the exhausts. The detailing, the whole chassis is polished to a brilliant shine, the tyres clean and new, the handlebars and seat leather flawless as if it's never even been ridden. Every line is exquisite, sharp where it needs to be and smooth where it needs to be, weight absolutely balanced from end to end.

 _Ducati Desmoquattro 916_ is emblazoned across the side, every letter sharp-edged in silver against the red. Sam wouldn't need it, of course – she'd know it even if they'd only let her take the tiniest peek. This is quite literally, in her opinion and many others, the most beautiful motorcycle ever built. It's form and function perfectly combined, speed incarnate, an engineer's wet dream. 

And it's _hers_.

She doesn't have to ask how they knew. She's not going to ask where the hell they found one so pristine, though she suspects both their handiwork in getting it that way. And she's absolutely not going to ask how much it must have cost, even between them.

"You're all insured," Daniel says, gives her a playful squeeze against his side. "Tax is paid up, and she's registered to you." 

"We even threw in a full tank of gas," Jack adds, grinning.

Daniel dangles a set of keys in front of her nose. "So, if you want to take her out for a spin…"

In one split-second move, Sam grabs the keys from his hand and kisses him hard, fast and fierce; Jack barely has time to get out a laugh before she does just the same to him, and she's so giddy with excitement – and being blindfolded all morning – that it throws her off-balance, leaves her suddenly enclosed in the circle of their arms holding her up.

Just like always.

"I love you," she says, still staring in sheer amazement. "Holy Hannah. You bought me a _Ducati._ "

"We did." Daniel grins proudly. 

"You're forty now," Jack says, grinning just the same. "It's mid-life crisis time, we figured you should do it right."

"I'm not going to have a mid-life crisis," she retorts, laughing. She's not. What could she possibly want to change about this life?

Jack arches an eyebrow. "Well, we can take it back…"

"Oh no," she says firmly, squeezing the keys hard in her palm, makes them all laugh. They bought her a _Ducati._ She can't believe it. It's right in front of her and she can't believe it. "You're both incredible, you know that, right?"

"Hey, it's not entirely altruistic," Jack teases. "You're gonna look hot as hell riding her."

Sam laughs, bright and loud, full of anticipation and that adrenaline thrill. "Well, then what are we waiting for?"

  


* * *

  


They start out on the road up to the Mountain, so familiar that Sam doesn't even have to think about the route at all, especially on a quiet day when most people are still staying home and there's no one commuting alongside them. There's only the sun and the breeze and the road; the familiar smooth rumble of Jack's Harley behind her and the song of the Ducati under her hands, the sheer power of it between her thighs.

It's everything she could imagine it would be – excitement giving way to exhilaration, that first spike of adrenaline settling into the confident joy of being on the road, the feeling of speed and control and freedom that can never _quite_ come from anything but this – and all of it heightened by the beauty of the machine she's riding.

By the time they're driving past the turn that would take them to the base parking lot, she's found her footing. The moment she opens up and lets it go, the exhaust heat warming her denim-clad thighs seems to roar and it feels like there's a prize racehorse beneath her – one that's just taken the bit firmly between its teeth. The way the Ducati handles is silky smooth, the traction is otherworldly – Sam feels justified in that exact comparison – and it obeys her every command like the best soldier, like Daniel on his knees offering her his collar.

She loses track of time entirely. Jack finally draws up alongside and signals her a mile or so before one of their usual rest stops, lazy hand signs and a grin she can see crinkling his eyes behind the visor of his helmet. Daniel's arms are comfortably wrapped around Jack's waist, gloved fingers hooked into his belt, the two of them fitting together just as seamlessly on the seat of a motorcycle as they do on the battlefield, around a briefing table or in their bed.

She's euphoric when they actually pull to a stop, as Jack takes the space right beside her. She tugs her helmet off, puts her feet down and just grins at them both, sweaty and helmet-haired and practically floating.

Daniel's grinning too when he looks over at her, rubbing at his hair with his helmet tucked under the other arm. "I'm not sure we should let her have caffeine," he says, swinging himself off the back of the Harley to Jack's muffled laugh.

"Just try and stop me," she teases, tilting her head up as he crosses the two steps between them. Daniel shakes his head at her and sinks his fingers into her hair – kisses her deep and slow, for long enough that his tongue is still in her mouth when she feels Jack's hand on the back of her neck.

"Birthday girl gets whatever she wants," he murmurs in her ear. Daniel pulls back just enough to let her switch, nuzzles at her cheek as Jack's mouth slides over hers, and Sam just gives herself over to them both as if she were still blindfolded in bed between them instead of casually astride their incredible birthday gift to her.

"I want coffee," she declares. Jack chuckles.

"Then coffee it is."

Three other tables are occupied when they walk in. There are still Christmas decorations hung, giant snowflakes painted on the windows, a pair of teenage baristas behind the counter still in matching jaunty red-and-green hats complete with absurdly sized elf ears. Sam makes a mental note to buy some of those for Siler next year – he has a strange preoccupation with oversized items like that.

Neither she or Daniel wear collars when they're riding, but as she reaches the coolers she feels Jack's hand slide under her hair, settle warm and firm on the back of her neck. It's so very clearly, openly possessive that she gets gooseflesh all over, even under the thick warmth of leather and denim. Under Jack's other hand, right beside her, Daniel flashes her a happy smile and threads their fingers together.

"I'm buying," Jack says. "Cinnamon mocha with the works, extra shot latte with cream?"

She's lost count of the years it's been since the first time he ever did this, risky and daring at a roadside diner somewhere in Minnesota, and she still feels a rush of pleasure so deep it's almost sensual at such a simple thing. "Yes please, sir," she murmurs over Daniel's, "Thank you, sir," a half beat behind.

His thumb rubs lightly against her skin – hidden under her hair, but equal and visible just above Daniel's jacket collar. They both stay quiet, fingers playing between them as Jack reels off their order for the waiting elves, adding a black drip for himself and three slices of pie.

Both baristas give them a slightly odd look, but take the order and Jack's card without asking. Sam feels like she wouldn't even care if they did.

Jack picks them a table and pulls out a chair for Daniel, one for her, his own on her other side. He puts them all with their backs to the wall – or in her case, the head-high planter – as usual, and takes her hand as soon as they're sitting down. Daniel nudges his arm under hers and fits their palms together, fingers lacing between hers again.

An elf deposits a plate in front of each of them, each with a slice of warm pumpkin pie. Jack claims all three forks, cuts the point off Sam's slice and holds it up to her mouth.

"Happy birthday, Sam," he says, with that smile that's made her weak at the knees for all these years, and trades the empty fork for a kiss.

"Happy birthday," Daniel echoes, and holds up his mug in a toast. "To life beginning at forty."

Sam laughs and rolls her eyes, but she clinks her mug to his, and Jack's. "To life being perfect at forty," she suggests instead.

Daniel's smile softens, his eyes sparkling blue and so full of that look of adoration, for a moment she's not entirely certain he isn't going to push his chair back and kneel at her feet. "Perfect, huh?"

They're holding both her hands, and she's not interested in the slightest in letting go, so she leans in and kisses him too. "Perfect," she repeats, smiles against his lips. 

She's forty years old. She's made it to full Colonel, she's written three books and learned more secrets of the universe than she could fit into a hundred more, even if she could publish them. She's been to more places in this galaxy and the next than she could ever have imagined, and she's about to take command of a _spaceship._ Her family is gathered from a half dozen different worlds, and it doesn't matter that they're spread across a dozen more – she can never doubt they'll be there for her, or that they love her no matter what. No one more than the not one but _two_ incredible, gorgeous, brilliant men who've given her everything in the world and more for over a decade. 

"Pretty damned perfect from here," Jack agrees, and offers her another bite of pie.

  


* * *

  


An hour of pie, kisses, caffeine and some incredibly curious elves later, Sam swings her leg back over the saddle and settles as if she's been astride this same bike for years. Jack grins across at her as he puts his helmet on, his hands covering Daniel's for a moment to make sure his grip is tight before landing comfortably on the Harley's handlebars.

"All right, kids, let's move out."

That's never not going to be familiar enough to make her smile. She can hear the anticipation in Jack's voice, knows the open road is calling him the same way it always does for her, the same way the open gate always calls to them all. Give her another week and it'll be the siren song of space she's hearing instead, the same as she's heard since she was a little girl, to the new tune of her very own spaceship waiting in orbit – but for right now there's just the bike and the road and her, and her guys. Always her guys.

Sam lifts the kick stand of her Ducati, hits the ignition and peels out of the parking lot, not even needing to look or listen to know they're right behind her.


	13. 2009

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the stealth crossover...

There are a hundred advantages of having a spaceship at her command that Sam never would have thought of, before it happened to her. 

Being able to just hop over to San Diego to do a little Christmas shopping is definitely one of those. Technically, of course, she isn't here – but as long as she doesn't leave an obvious paper trail or get herself into any trouble, she's allowed to bend the rules just a little. 

Of course, it helps to know the man who makes the rules.

"Hey," Jack says, close and smiling right behind her. A red Starbucks cup appears in front of her, in a broad hand attached to a bare, muscled forearm Sam would happily lick from end to end right now if they weren't in a crowded food court.

She takes the cup and turns, stepping into him with the ease of years, knowing his arms will close around her just the way they do.

"Hey," she says back, curls her other arm around his neck and kisses him a very firm and thorough hello. He tastes sharply of the other cup still in his hand, hot and black and bitter – but more than that he tastes of love and home, an instant reminder of where and who she belongs to. It's amazing to her how even now, she can miss him just as much after a few days as after months and more.

"Eggnog latte," he murmurs into her mouth, makes her smile with delight.

"Really?" She takes a quick sip: it's creamy and way too sweet, just perfect when she's living on basic shipboard freeze-dried supplies right now. "Mmm. Thank you."

"You betcha." Jack kisses her temple, settles one arm comfortably around her waist and hugs her close while they walk. This close to Christmas the Horton Plaza mall is packed full to bursting, but Sam's spent the last year living in close confines with the same few hundred people, being recognisable and recognised everywhere she steps. As much as the noise is a little grating, being one among the masses is a refreshing break from her new normality. That it gives them an excuse to press extra close together is just a happy bonus.

"You catch Daniel this morning?" Despite the hubbub around them Jack's voice is soft in her ear, his fingers stroking her hip as he sips his coffee.

She shakes her head a little. "We're still running on UTC, and my morning briefing ran long."

"Hm." His lips brush the shell of her ear. "I did."

Her skin prickles delightfully at the sensation. "Oh?"

"Mm-hmm." She knows exactly what that grin is, even without turning her head. "Woke him up. Got an earful of Arabic, but it was worth it."

Sam laughs: Daniel's spent the last two weeks in Egypt consulting on a dig – she even managed to beam down and visit with him like this, if only for a day – and he must have worked late back at the SGC: he only slips into another language when he _really_ doesn't want to be awake yet. 

This time she does turn, gives Jack a quick kiss as she grins back at him. "I bet. He's so cute when he's cranky." They've got maybe twenty minutes until they're due to meet up with Ellie and the kids; she leans in close to his ear in turn, whispers it low and husky. "Why don't you tell me all about it, sir?"

  


* * *

  


"Uncle _Jack!_ "

Sam's smile makes her face ache as Lisa scrambles out of her seat and slams into Jack's chest in a full-body tackle, before Sam can even fully disentangle herself from his side. He puffs out a laugh, wraps his arms tight around the blonde whirlwind that's just struck him at point blank range in the middle of an upmarket steakhouse and hefts her off her feet just as if they're at home.

"Hey, kiddo." No matter how often she hears it, it makes Sam's heart swell that Jack's picked up the same nickname for her niece that her dad's always used for her. "How've you been?"

"I missed you." Lisa squeezes her arms as tight as she can around him for a long few seconds more, before she finally lets go and instantly throws them around Sam in turn. "Auntie Sam! I missed you too."

"Me too, honey." Sam squeezes her just as tight. At sixteen, Lisa reminds her more of herself every time she manages to get over here: she's going through a period of straightening her naturally tight blonde ringlets and the bright intelligence in her blue eyes is very much like looking into a mirror, albeit one that looks back in time twenty-five years. The Precalculus and Trigonometry classes Sam knows have started up this semester just put the icing on the cake.

David's taking his turn hugging Jack, albeit in much more subdued fashion; when Lisa finally lets her go, he hugs her too with a quiet, "Hi, Aunt Sam," that makes her smile.

"Hi, David." He's her height now when she puts her arms around him, has his father's fluffy ash-blond hair and slender build, though he's gentle and quiet where Lisa is bubbly and loud. Her niece and nephew couldn't be further apart in personality, but no one could doubt they're siblings by looking.

"This place is _amazing_ ," Lisa tells her, practically wriggling back into her chair. "Dad never takes us anywhere like this and I'm starved, can we order now?"

"Now that your aunt and uncle are here, yes," Ellie says, sliding out of her own seat. Her smile is warm, as genuine for Jack as it is for Sam, and her welcoming hug is just the same. "Jack, Sam. It's great to see you." She leans back, hands on both their elbows for just a moment. "Daniel couldn't come with you?"

"He got called into a project at work," Jack says smoothly, just as if said project wasn't an urgent negotiation between bickering reptilian aliens on a planet sixteen-hundred light years away. "But he did say hi, and he did," he digs into his pocket and drops four palm-sized packages on the table, "send a little something to make up for it."

Of course Lisa wheedles, with the consummate skill of an above-average-intelligence teenage daughter, to be allowed to open hers right now. It only takes until Jack and Sam are settled for Ellie to crack, especially when Jack does admit that, "well, there's probably _something_ else heading your way in time for Christmas…"

Ellie gives them both a mock-serious put-upon glare. "All right, you can open it _after_ we order."

Jack grabs for the menu in immediate agreement. "And remember, no one looks at the prices."

Sam knows better than to argue with that tone – Jack will only order a damn good guess at what she really wants, if she tries to con him – but Ellie starts to shake her head with a polite but sincere, "Oh, no, that's not –"

"Ah." Jack holds up a finger. "No argument. I'm the ranking officer at this table, and I'm buying, so go wild. That's an order."

"He'll find a way anyway," Sam says. She smiles, quickly squeezing Jack's wrist. "Our treat. For Christmas."

Ellie still orders the short rib, well done, though she insists that's honestly her favorite three times before Jack lets it pass. For a moment, Sam thinks David's going to take his cue from his mom, but he's got a streak of hero worship for Jack too and settles on a rare New York center cut instead. Jack orders a bone-in rib eye, medium rare for himself and a rare filet mignon for Sam, who can't miss the playful nudge of his hand under the table when Lisa asks for the same.

"Sure." Jack nods to the server, who silently notes it down – along with the generous range of sides Jack adds on, the starters of wagyu carpaccio and calamari that David and Lisa ask to try, a half-bottle of expensive Cabernet Sauvignon and two shots of the best bourbon in the house. By the time he's done, their college-kid server practically has cartoon dollar signs in his eyes and Ellie's are a little wild. Sam's just smiling, finds his hand under the table and squeezes a wordless _thank you._ She's as happy to eat at Taco Bell as somewhere like this, but it's a treat he wanted to splash out on – she'd never make the mistake of thinking Jack enjoys the authority that comes with being a General, but being able to afford cool stuff for his family is a different matter. Besides, David's quiet but intense gaze taking in everything and the way Lisa's practically vibrating is worth every penny.

Jack grins and squeezes back, and she knows it means _thank you,_ too. 

That's the thing about someone losing a child, she thinks, for only a moment before she pushes it gently away again. Jack appreciates being able to do this, even if Lisa and David aren't his flesh and blood, far more than Mark ever will.

Lisa wheedles to try the wine, too – "Mom, when am I going to try two-hundred-dollar wine again?!" – and Ellie finally relents on allowing her a sip by the time it actually arrives. Their server obediently pours a splash into Lisa's waiting wine glass with a wink that makes her flush bright red long after he's retreated again.

"Solving equations like your aunt and turning heads just like her, too," Jack teases. Lisa blushes even brighter.

"Uncle Jack!"

Sam gives him a much less subtle nudge. Of course he's utterly unrepentant. "Go on then, open your present. Daniel's going to be impossible until he knows you like it."

"I love it already," Lisa promises, while she's still tearing at the wrapping.

"There's one for Mark, too," Sam says, as Ellie picks up the other two.

Ellie tucks that one, and her own, into her purse. "Do tell Daniel thank you. He didn't have to." The _especially for Mark_ goes unsaid.

"He wanted to." They still try, because they're all just as stubborn as Mark. Even so, that Ellie even asked after Daniel is still something Sam doesn't take for granted. The last awkward time she was in the same room with Mark it was only Daniel with her, and her brother blithely trying to pretend they were just a _normal_ couple had Sam ready to punch his lights out.

At least the kids are old enough now to know that their uncles are really their uncles, and Sam's never doubted the love between them all. It's clear in little things like this, Daniel taking the time to pick them up gifts from Egypt even though she knows he'd have taken barely any other time off while he was there, and the excitement of the kids right now as they open them.

"Ooooh!" Lisa holds up the pendant Daniel's sent her, already opening the clasp to put it on. It's a small square of hammered gold, engraved with hieroglyphs and hanging on a gold chain.

"Oh, that's beautiful," Ellie says, leaning in to touch it lightly. 

"They both are." Sitting opposite Sam, David holds out his wrist and a thicker chain bracelet with the same hieroglyphic panel, this time in polished silver. Sam dutifully helps him fasten it around his wrist, smoothing her thumb over the hammered metal. "Thank you," he says. Sam smiles warmly.

"They're from Cairo," she explains, Lisa's head popping up in surprise and delight. "Daniel was born there. He went back recently, and he wanted to give you something from home." 

Jack's smiling, just the way Daniel would if he were actually here. "We'll tell him you like them, then?"

"I _love_ it," Lisa says, already mesmerised and looking upside-down at the writing. 

"It's an ancient Egyptian blessing," Sam says. "So Daniel said, anyway."

"And he should know," Jack adds. 

"I'm taking a picture," Lisa declares, and digs her cellphone out of her pocket. She takes a few, can't get the angle right, asks Sam to do it; takes a bunch of David's wrist too. Sam takes one of them both with their mom, a good shot where no one's blinking even if David is sticking his tongue out boyishly at his sister – she hopes she'll remember to get a copy, to show Daniel and her dad and maybe a print copy for the house too. Then of course Lisa wants a photo of her and Jack, who promptly wraps his arm around her shoulders and draws her close, pressing his cheek to hers. 

When Lisa shows her the picture, Sam can't help a rush of affection: Jack's grinning and she's smiling, a bustling restaurant hung with tasteful festive decorations behind them, his fingers curled lightly around her upper arm. They look relaxed and happy, not two slightly-world-weary soldiers who've saved the planet one too many times but just two people in love, enjoying a Christmas meal without a visible care in the world.

By the time Lisa's happy with her amateur photography efforts, their food has arrived and gets its own moment in the limelight – Lisa wants to show Daniel what he missed, though Sam has a sneaking suspicion the photo will make its way under Mark's nose too. The obviously lavish blowout on his family probably won't endear Jack to him, but Sam's beyond worrying about that any more. 

The steak is cooked to perfection, bursting with flavor, melting on her tongue; she briefly lets herself imagine Jack stealing her fork, slicing her meat with the same gusto he's attacking his own, the playful way he'd feed her each tender pink slice and wait for her to enjoy it before allowing her the next…

He'd do it in the middle of a crowded restaurant like this, too. Though somewhere small, intimate, softly lit would be nicer. She makes a mental note to look up steakhouses in DC when she's back on the _Hammond._

 __Still, there's no rush – she won't need to eat for at least a week after this, after she's devoured an eight ounce fillet steak and half her own body weight in sides chased down with rich Cabernet and that smooth shot of bourbon. When it's clear no one can be tempted by even the most divine dessert menu, Jack orders coffees and just whispers a dirty promise of "dessert tonight, then," in her ear.

Sam isn't sure she won't have to be beamed up right from this chair and remain incapable of moving until the morning, but she's impressed with his determination even in the face of truly spectacular steak.

That might be obvious on her face, given the way he grins. He sneaks a light kiss and stirs creamer into her coffee. She's not sure anyone else even notices the gesture and she's sure Ellie doesn't, just taking the jug as Jack passes it over.

"So, what are your plans for Christmas?"

She gives Jack a quick glance, sipping at her coffee. It's perfect, of course. "Well, quiet, hopefully. I'm in the country until the new year now," so long as _in orbit above the country_ counts, anyway, "so when Daniel's done with his project we're going to spend a few days with Cassandra in Baltimore, then we'll just have a family holiday at home."

"You could come here," Lisa says, picking at the truffle mac and cheese with her fork. "Have a family holiday with us."

She isn't sure if it's a healthy or just a sad sign that she only winces faintly inside, just a brief dull ache at having to talk about it. "Oh, honey, I don't think your dad would like that too much."

"Dad's an idiot," Lisa states, clearly angry with that trademark Carter whirlwind temper, amplified by righteous teenage emotion. Sam tries to be gentle with her smile.

"Maybe, but he's still your dad."

"He says you set us a bad example."

Jack rolls his eyes. Sam sighs into her coffee. "Well. He's... entitled to his opinion."

"No he's not. It's stupid." Lisa bites viciously through a stalk of grilled asparagus. The girl has a metabolism to rival Teal'c's. "We never get to see you and it's his fault."

That dull ache pulses louder at the real hurt in her voice. Sam can't exactly deny it – Mark is the reason they've never been here for the actual holidays, never had them back to Colorado or up to the cabin. But – much as she'd like to – it's not fair to lay the full weight of the blame on him for her being an absent aunt.

"You know that's not true," she says, carefully. "We'd all visit a lot more if I could. Work keeps us very busy. Especially now Jack's in DC and I'm on deployment, we don't even see each other every week any more."

Lisa pouts. She's intelligent enough to understand it's true, and emotional enough to be irritated at the truth. If only life were simple that way, Sam thinks. 

"Tell you what," Jack says. His hand settles subtly on Sam's thigh under the table. "Couple of years, when you're at college, you can come to us for Christmas again. You can even come for spring break, if you want."

"That's years away." Lisa chomps the rest of the doomed asparagus. "I miss you now. Dad's so – so -"

"Stupid," Jack says. Very gently teasing, but understanding, too. 

Lisa sighs, the fight sagging out of her. "Yeah."

"She's right," David says. Quiet, but meeting his mother's eyes without flinching. "What? You know it's true. If he'd just stop being so stubborn…"

Ellie sighs, looking at Sam. "I keep trying to get through to him, but you know how he can be…"

"I know," Sam assures her. She does, after all. That's why it doesn't hurt so much any more. She's spent half her life with her brother not speaking to her. At least she gets this, what feels like the most important part. "It's a little late to change our plans now for Christmas," she tells Lisa. It's a white lie, at least. "But I promise, I'll try and talk to your dad again for new year, okay?"

Lisa seems at least partly mollified by that. "Okay." She scoops up another forkful of mac and cheese, though it's mostly cheese at this point. 

Sam's not been a soldier and a commander this long without knowing when to press her advantage. "And, didn't I promise you some math tutoring?"

"But you're on deployment."

"Oh no, you're not getting out of it that easily. I'm back every few weeks, and even when I'm not we can still write. Jack or Daniel can always get a hold of me."

Lisa's smile is cheerful again, her stubborn father forgotten again at least for the moment. "Okay," she says brightly, and stabs the last asparagus spear with triumphant and deadly accuracy.

  


* * *

  


"We've got to stop meeting like this," Sam says, two weeks later when a red cup appears in front of her while she's waiting at the arrivals gate at Dulles. Jack's other arm slides around her waist, warmth fitting up against her back.

"Speak for yourself. I just keep finding hot blonde Colonels everywhere."

She laughs, turns her head to kiss him hello. She's heard him coming, of course, knowing it was him a half dozen steps away. It's not that late in the day but he's already out of uniform, looking as civilian as he possibly can – and Jack can look pretty civilian, so long as he doesn't move or talk. Two things Sam can distract him from with a great deal of skill, and does for long enough that Daniel's hand on her back is suddenly a surprise.

She grins into Jack's mouth. "Hi," she murmurs, even as she's still turning around. 

"Hey." Daniel grins back and kisses her, Jack lets her go to greet Janet with a warm hug, and Sam happily loses herself in those few minutes of reconnection. It can get more lonely in orbit than it is out between galaxies, sometimes, even when they talk every day and she never goes to bed without a _good night, Sam_ popping up on her AFNET chat, never wakes up without a _good morning up there_ or an _I love you_ in her private email. 

Having them so close – relatively speaking – and yet still not with her is tough. But it does really make her appreciate them all the more when they are.

She keeps one arm around Daniel's back, steps back into Jack's side and slides the other around him. Janet gives the three of them a warm smile and takes point in front of her.

"Come on, Cassie's waiting."

  


* * *

  


Cassie's compact little waterfront studio is sunlit and messy, just like its tenant – especially with a super-king sized airbed propped near the door, the accompanying bundle of sheets and pillows tall enough to mimic an extra chair. And yet there's a pair of bold orange floor cushions too, and Sam didn't miss that both were pulled out and placed neatly in front of the couch before any of them even walked in. The far wall is a snapshot compilation of Cassie's life: out on the lake with Janet, her prom picture with Dominic, throwing her hat in the air at graduation, various shots with friends Sam doesn't recognise and probably never will. But Sam is pleased and proud that they're in there too, just left of center – a huge print of their entire mismatched family that snowy Christmas at the cabin, all of them looking warm, happy and full of mulled wine in front of the fire.

In that photo both she and Daniel are wearing their collars and he's on the floor leaning against Jack's knee, a glass in hand, looking up at her with such a soft smile. Jack's arm is around her, hugging her close, and the three of them look as intimate and inseparable as she remembers feeling on that bright, cold morning nestled up together watching the sun rise.

That Cassie has such an open and honest moment on her wall, when Mark wouldn't even come to dinner with them in public… 

_Take the good where it comes,_ she remembers Jack saying once. And Cassandra is enough good to balance out a world of hurt. 

Sam hopes they've always been the same for her, and she prays they can be when Cassie says nervously – almost timid, blushing pink, knees drawn up, fingers twisting in the sleeves of her oversized baseball jersey;

"I'd, um… I'd like to bring Sarah for Christmas." 

_Oh_ , Sam thinks, a slow smile creeping onto her lips. It's not as if Cass hasn't been gushing to them all about her girlfriend for months now, and it's been obvious they're getting pretty serious as time's gone on – from those initial giddy dates to the everyday tales of _Sarah and I_ that are utterly adorable however often Sam hears them. If they weren't all who and what they are, they'd probably have met the woman who's slipped seemingly effortlessly into Cassie's life by now, but they're not and they haven't, and the idea makes Sam a little giddy herself.

Jack's grin is just brilliant, too. "Yeah?"

Cassie's blush deepens but her smile is so sweet as she starts to relax, fingers peeking out from her sleeves again. "Yeah."

"We were thinking," Janet says, handing a mug down to Daniel on his lurid orange cushion and one over to Sam, with a warm, supportive glance at Cassie, "since you guys are going to be in DC, it would be the perfect time to all get together."

Sam smiles, nodding as she takes her tea. "We'd love that, Cass," she says. 

"So, Sarah's serious?" Jack's teasing a little now.

"Um, yeah. I think so." Cass looks abashed. "Eight months now."

Sam remembers those times, when it was counted not in years but in months, and every one of them was new and exciting. "Wow," she says, with a grin. "Eight months, huh?"

Cassie bites her lip, but she's smiling that _I'm so in love I can't see straight_ smile. Sam knows it well from both sides, but it's a whole different level of happiness to see it on Cassie's face. "Um. Nearly nine, really." 

"And she's not moved in yet?" Jack teases, earning himself a slightly terrifying glare from Janet as she passes over his tea. He sits up a little straighter and schools his grin at least a little. "Ah, so, turkey still okay?"

Cass laughs, but a little more relaxed, as if she's letting the nerves out. "Yeah, that sounds great." She looks quickly between the three of them, as if her eyes can't settle. "There is, um. It's just…" A breath that's obviously supposed to be calming. "I told her about you guys, but I haven't told her your dynamic at all."

 _Ah_ , Sam thinks. She's never asked, because she's never wanted to put that pressure on. It's Cassie's choice what to say - they all trust her judgement on it, even if she sometimes doesn't.

Jack doesn't hesitate. "Hey, you just tell us what you want us to do, Cass."

Cassie's hands disappear back into her sleeves. "I want you to just be you." Just when Sam doesn't think she has any more pride in her. "I want her to meet _you._ I want her to love you."

"You know it is okay, if you want us to dial anything down." Daniel gives her a smile. "This is a big deal, and she needs to be comfortable too. If we need to start small, we can do that."

She always seems so mature now, sometimes Sam forgets how young she is, still – until she looks like that, stricken and uncertain and a little lost. "I just don't want to you to think…"

She knows, and she knows they know. A shared look to draw straws, and Jack prods very gently. "Think what, Cassie?"

She looks tearful. "That I – that I'm ashamed of you."

"Oh, hey, no." Daniel climbs up from the floor and gathers her against him. "We would never think that." He kisses the top of her head, rubbing her back as she huddles close. "Cass, come on. You know we don't think that."

"Hell, you're the gold standard for acceptance," Jack says. "You're up there with Teal'c on the 'coolest cucumbers' leaderboard."

"But –"

"It's okay not to tell your first serious girlfriend about your poly godparents and their kink dynamic the minute you bring her home for the first time," Daniel teases. 

Cassie smiles ruefully at that. "It's just that she – she's important to me, you know? I just –"

"We know," Sam says. She can feel Jack smiling at her, and it only makes her smile back. "You know we know, honey. It's really fine."

"But you're important, too." Cassie sighs, leaning into Daniel's embrace. "I love you guys. I want you to love her, too."

"We can love her without collars on," Daniel reminds her, with a smile. "I'm sure we will, if she's that important to you. There's plenty of time."

It should be reassuring, but Cassie shifts and winds her arms around Daniel's waist, clinging tight to him. "What if she doesn't…"

Daniel squeezes her shoulders, stroking her arm. "What if you tell her and she can't accept us?"

She nods into his shoulder. Daniel sighs softly, looking up to meet their eyes. _What would we do?_

What would she do? Sam's not sure she can take another Mark, especially not with Cassie, who's above and beyond what they could ever possibly ask for. But she also can't believe a woman Cassie could love wouldn't at least be open-minded, about the three of them if not the dynamic between them. 

"We'll cross that bridge if we get there," Jack says, firm but smiling at Cass the way he did when she was small, when just his presence could make everything all right again. "But you need to remember, you're our family. We're never gonna to make you choose between us and what makes you happy."

Cassie sniffs, quickly wiping her eyes. "I don't want to have to do that."

"You won't," Sam promises. Those over-long sleeves are still tugged down, but she manages to find Cassie's hand and squeezes it tight. "I promise. Okay?"

Cassie nods. "Okay." She buries her face in Daniel's chest, even as she says, just loud enough to hear; "Sam?" 

There's a clear wobble to her name. Sam squeezes harder. "What, honey?"

Cass doesn't look up. Daniel hugs her tighter, rubbing her back with one hand. "What if – if I c-could tell her _everything_ and she can't… what if she doesn't accept me?"

"Oh," Daniel says, eyebrows rising. Jack even looks surprised.

"Everything?" Sam catches the look between him and Janet, but she looks as stunned as the rest of them. Of course this is a conversation they've all had a few times over the years as Cassie grew up – who might need to know, and who she might want to know – but it's another thing for it to be a reality, for there to be a real person where there's only been theory until now.

Their little girl really isn't their little girl any more, and Sam couldn't be more proud if Cassandra were her own flesh and blood.

"You know you'll need to get clearance for that," Jack reminds her gently, though he's looking around at them all. Cass sniffs and nods into Daniel's chest.

"I know." Her voice is a little muffled. "I'm not just going to blurt it out or anything. And I know I might not get it-"

"Cassandra Fraiser." Jack puts his tea down and reaches over both Sam and Daniel to put his hand on her knee. "If you want to tell this girl, I'll do everything I can to let you. Just make sure _you're_ sure."

Cassie sniffs again at that, looking up at him, and doesn't quite make it in time to catch all the tears. "Really?"

"Cross my heart." Jack pats Daniel lightly on the chest. "C'mon, stop hogging."

Cassie even giggles, watery but true, as Daniel switches sides and snugs her tight up against Sam. Jack ruffles her hair, broad hand coming to rest on the side of her head and encourage her to curl in; Sam wraps both arms around her and holds as tight as she ever has, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"We'll help you tell her," she promises. "If you really want to." In the corner of her eye, Daniel's tugging Janet into the last remaining micron of space at the other end of the couch, drawing her into the pile they've made. "And if she loves you, Cass, then she loves _you_ , and you've got nothing to worry about. Okay?"

Cassie huddles between her and Daniel, Jack's hand on her hair and Janet's holding hers, and for a moment it's as if a dozen years haven't even passed. "Thanks, Sam."

  


* * *

  


It feels like a lifetime and more since Sam woke up in DC on Christmas Day, but by the time she's eating waffles in Daniel's naked lap the traffic outside and the glare of the holiday street lighting are already familiar again. 

They've got the morning to themselves, so she refuses to rush; especially when Daniel's nuzzling at her neck right under her collar like that, still a little bit asleep, in between the bites of syrup-drenched waffle she's feeding him. His breath is hot on her skin and his lips are sticky, messily getting syrup on her with each kiss and licking it off again with playful swipes of his tongue. 

Jack wanders in naked as they're finishing the plate, scrubbing at his hair with a towel. "You two better get clean when you're done," he teases, his gaze lighting on Daniel's mouth and the long drip of syrup that's escaped him, currently making its slow and sticky way down the swell of Sam's breast toward her nipple.

She flashes him a smile. "Yes sir, I'll take him to shower soon."

Daniel hums against her skin. Jack chuckles.

"Let him come while you're there, if he wants to." He drops the towel and picks up the crossword as he sits down, reaching over to stroke Daniel's hair with the other hand.

Daniel hums deeper, turning to nuzzle into Jack's palm. "Thank you, sir."

"You're a good boy," Jack says tenderly. "You deserve it. Christmas treat. A cage goes back on after, though."

Daniel nods, kisses the heel of Jack's hand, the inside of his wrist. "Yes, sir." He looks up. "Do you want me to take it off when they get here?"

Jack's fingers tighten in his hair even as shakes his own head: Sam doesn't have to have a clear view of it to know the sensation, the way Daniel's body reacts so viscerally to that grip after all this time. "No," he says, and Daniel's breath is a shiver of relief against her neck. "Just wear something that hides it. We promise no playing until tomorrow." He looks at her with an obvious order. She nods, mopping up the last swipe of syrup with a slice of waffle and offering it to Daniel's lips.

"I promise, sir." She pecks a kiss to Daniel's cheek as he chews. "You'll be just fine, sweetheart."

Daniel smiles, nuzzling back into her shoulder in that faintly puppy-dog fashion. "I know. I've got you."

"And we've got you." She strokes the arm he's got wrapped around her waist. "Always. Drink your coffee."

He grins and reaches obediently for his mug. "Yes, Sam."

"And figure out six down," Jack says, spinning the paper to face them. "Eight letters, what the hell is that?"

  


* * *

  


Daniel flops heavily back onto the bed, naked and wet, arms spread and breath still not quite even. Sam only has to glance over at him and she's laughing, but soft and affectionate with what she's sure is the most besotted smile. He's so beautiful, relaxed like that from her hand and mouth and finally from coming inside her, from fucking her so slowly up against the bathroom tiles and panting her name like a prayer as her fingers worked him open. 

She did that to him. She'll never get tired of that.

She grabs a towel, kneels down smoothly between his spread knees and he hardly even moves, just makes a little noise of acknowledgement as if she's pulled up a chair in his office while he's mid-translation. She laughs again, leans in and kisses the tip of his cock.

"If we weren't on best behavior today," she muses, out loud for him, "I think I'd cane some nice stripes right here for you before I lock you back up."

Daniel's answer is a lazy moan from above her. "That'd be nice. Festive."

She gives him a gentle stroke from root to tip. "You'd make a perfectly suckable candy cane." She can see it now, nice straight bruises neatly spaced along the length of his hard cock, right to the tip: a bright, sore red that would deepen to that luscious purple against even the mouth-watering color he'd be just from being so turned on. If there's any clear evidence how much Daniel loves it when they hurt him so nicely, it's the way he'll get hard, start begging – even start leaking just from her standing close, waiting for the moment he's most sensitive, with that particular long, whip-like cane in her hand. There's one in Jack's closet, and only reason she isn't reaching for it now is how sore he'd be after, caged or not, which they'll all love but isn't exactly in line with being subtle about anything.

Daniel lifts his head enough to look down at her. "Maybe tomorrow?" 

"That's not going to distract you too much today?" 

"Being nervous about meeting Cassie's girlfriend is taking up all my distraction," he admits with a wry smile. She bounces it right back to him, because she knows the feeling.

"Yeah. This is one of those milestones."

"She sounds really serious about this girl." He shifts his legs together as she starts drying him with gentle rubs of the towel. 

"She does." Sam works her way down to his feet, slips the towel between his toes. "Do you remember the first time you brought someone home?"

"I don't think I ever did." His foot strokes lightly up and down her thigh as she dries the other leg. "It never seemed important. Wasn't as if I really went back to any of my foster parents anyway, after I got to college. And I definitely never took a guy back." He looks up at her as she rises to sit on the bed beside him, cups the towel around his cock and balls with her hands. "You?"

"I was always afraid to introduce anyone to 'the General'," she admits. "You think dad was bad finding out about you and Jack..."

"Ah," he says knowingly. "Let me guess, girls were out entirely."

She winces at the very thought. "I was at the Academy by Cassie's age. You can just imagine how that would have gone over."

Daniel stretches back on the bed as she works her way up his torso. "Hey, well, at least we know we're doing better than our parents did."

"Only because Cass didn't join the Air Force."

He frowns, taking her hand. "You don't believe that, Sam."

"Don't I?" She's always been glad Cassie chose a purely medical career, if only for that. She'd have been beyond proud – of course she would have, knows Janet and Jack would both have burst – if their kid had chosen the military, but there's a part of her that's always been relieved Cassie will never have to deal with the shit she and Jack and so many others have.

"You'd never have hurt her." Daniel's voice is even, his confidence in her so complete it makes her chest go tight with emotion. "You'd never have picked the Air Force over her, no matter what the reason. You couldn't do that any more than you could have left her in that bunker."

She pulls his hand up to her lips, holds it tight. It's a decision she doesn't have to make in this life, but she wants to believe that he's right, if she did. Daniel just smiles and unfurls his fingers against her cheek, and leaves them there even when she goes back to rubbing him down with the towel.

Once his body is dry, she leans over and drops a kiss onto his lips, as much a thank you for that soft, centering touch as a marker that she's done. "Which cage do you want?" Most of their toys are back at the house in Colorado, but she knows he packed a few options.

Daniel smiles up at her, fingers grazing her lips before he drops his hand back down to the bed. "The black one, please, Sam."

It's a good choice for being discrete without the distraction of wearing none at all. The ring is steel but the rest is black silicon, not quite as unyielding as the full steel she took off earlier but still ready to keep him locked and soft, and it's smooth all over except for ventilation holes either side and a slit at the tip. It's lighter than the others, too, and the padlock doesn't make a sound against it.

"Spread your legs for me." It's easier to do this at eye level so she kneels back down and cups him lightly in both hands, fingers around the base of his cock and a thumb on each of his balls. "Who do you belong to, Daniel?"

He lets out a soft, happy sigh. "You, Sam. You and Jack. I belong to you and Jack."

"That's right." She smiles, kisses the tip of his cock and pushes down with her thumbs, quick and hard enough to draw a tiny whine from the bed above her. "You're ours," she murmurs, just as happy to say it as he is to hear it. "I'm locking you up now, sweetheart. You ready?"

Daniel's breath hitches just slightly at the pressure on his balls, that rush of pain he likes so much. "Yes, Sam – _ah,_ yes, oh please…"

"Shh, just relax." She licks playfully across the tip of his cock, lets up the squeeze and smiles at his sharp, huffed breath. "Good boy." 

Daniel sighs again, quiet, content. "I love you, Sam," he murmurs, soft and sincere, making her heart skip as she slips the steel ring on. 

"I love you too." She kisses his inner thigh, gently easing his cock into the hard silicon sleeve. There's a touch more friction than with steel or plastic, but Daniel's just breathing calmly and despite that quick stab of delicious pain she couldn't resist giving him, he's still nice and soft and fits in just right. "There you go." She hooks the usual padlock through and clicks it shut, adding a final kiss to finish. "All locked up for us."

"Mmmm." He wriggles his hips, giving the cage a playful little shake. Sam laughs.

"That's pretty." She gives his balls another quick, sharp squeeze that makes him twitch and laugh back at her, pushing himself up on his elbows.

" _Ow,_ Sam," he whines, mock-seriously, grinning down at her.

She arches her eyebrows. "Just 'ow'?"

There's a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. "Maybe a little harder…?"

"I don't want you sore." She pats his caged cock gently and hops up onto her feet. "But tomorrow…" She grins and leans over to kiss him again. "That's a different story."

  


* * *

  


It feels _odd_ , walking around this apartment without her collar on. Even more to look over at Daniel and see his neck bare over the soft, pale grey sweater and dark blue jeans he's wearing. His sleeves are tugged down like hers to hide his bracelet, while the denim jeans are both dark and loose enough to disguise anything that might look more solid than skin underneath. At least on the surface, he looks just as if he wasn't on his knees in front of Jack ten minutes ago, basking in the feeling of a strong hand around the back of his neck and holding him down.

"You okay?" 

"Fine, sir." She quickly bites her tongue. "Jack," she corrects herself, winces wryly at him. "Okay, cover story if we do that-"

"Ten years, hard habit to break." He shrugs, tugs her in for a kiss. "C'mon, relax. It's Christmas dinner. Not like she's a Goa'uld."

"Please don't let her be a Goa'uld," Daniel mutters.

"Cassie would notice," she points out. Realises she's actually considering that and mentally slaps herself. "She's going to be lovely. It's going to be just fine. Great, even."

"Right," Jack agrees. He's not at all tense, not in the slightest, nope.

"Absolutely." Daniel shuffles their coffee mugs around for a third time.

  


* * *

  


Sarah is pretty, build similar enough to Cassie that they could probably share clothes but a couple inches taller, with dark wavy hair down past her shoulders – all of which they already knew, from Cassie's photos as well as the extensive and top secret dossier sent through by Walter entitled _Merry Christmas, she's clean_. 

They know she's twenty-two, Irish American born in Alameda, a graduate of Waverly majoring in English Literature who's currently working there as a TA. They know she's the youngest of two, that her father is a Navy Admiral, her brother an NCIS agent based here in DC. They know every grade she's gotten since middle school, every shot she's ever had since childhood, the planned publication date of her debut novel and her favorite pizza topping. Most importantly, they know she was a mostly typical college student, her worst crime is a traffic violation at seventeen, and she at least has no known ties to the NID or the Trust or any other shady agency of note.

What couldn't be in the background checks and didn't show so vividly in the photos is the way she squeezes Cassie's hand so tight, or that her fashion choice leans toward deliberately-ragged blue jeans, combat boots and a garish festive sweater in red and green, or that she has a very sweet _I'm-not-nervous-you're-nervous_ smile.

"Sarah, this is Sam, and Daniel, and Jack." Cassie's smile is just a little over-bright too, tense around the edges. Sam hasn't seen that look in her eyes since she was begging them to come visit her first semester away from home, that hope and pride, that plea for their approval. "Um. Everyone, this is Sarah."

Daniel doesn't even hesitate before offering a hug. "Welcome to the family, Sarah," he says, warmly enough to skip the icebreaking and melt it outright. 

Sarah's smile calms, in that way Daniel has of just setting someone at ease. "Thanks for having me," she says, hugs him back warmly enough that Sam finds herself smiling too.

Cassie's shoulders drop with relief and she all but leaps on Sam, clinging tight. Jack grins and wraps his arms around Janet, kissing her cheek then holding her crutches as she strips off her coat, and just like that it's just another family holiday together. 

  


* * *

  


"Can I help with anything?"

Sam turns from the stove where she's patiently watching the pot that, according to Jack, really is going to boil despite popular folklore. Sarah's standing just inside the kitchen behind her, obviously a touch self-conscious but brave with it. "Cassie and her mom are having some time," she says.

At the sink, Daniel smiles and tilts his head back toward Jack, who's currently mashing potatoes with his usual gusto. "He's in charge, but I'm sure we can find you something to do."

"Have no mercy," Jack quips, offering her the masher.

"Aye, sir," she says, and Sam shoots him a quick look, biting the inside of her cheek not to laugh at the look on his face.

"You should definitely call me Jack," he says, with a smile. "Navy kid, right?" 

"Yeah. It's one of the things we had in common. A lot of people don't know what it's like being a military brat." She looks quickly between them all. "Oh, not that-"

Sam waves it off. "I know. My dad's a two-star general in the Air Force. Believe me, I know."

"Sam's a military brat, too," Daniel teases, and quickly jerks away as she grabs a dish towel and snaps it at his ass. "Hey!"

" _Kids,_ " Jack warns, but he's grinning. He rolls his eyes at Sarah, who grins back at him as if they've known each other for years already. "I gotta go take care of some paperwork. They give you any trouble," he shoots a mock-serious look at them both, "lethal force is authorised, you got that?"

Sarah gets a wicked look in her eye and brandishes the masher like an expert swordswoman. "Aye, sir."

  


* * *

  


Jack's hiding away in the office finishing up when Sam sneaks Cassie in, while Daniel and Janet distract Sarah with setting the dining table and combining everyone's gifts under the tree. 

"You guys are being really sneaky," Cassie's accusing her, half-seriously, flashing narrowed eyes over her shoulder. She's obviously not sure whether to be suspicious or amused and is settled on both. "What's going on?"

"There's something you really wanted for Christmas," Sam says, nodding toward where Jack's leaning back in his desk chair, feet up on the edge of the desk, the slim manila envelope in his lap.

Cassie goes still, her eyes flashing wide. "Oh," she breathes.

Jack drops his feet to the floor and leans forward on the desk, looking almost professional even in his jeans and tacky Hawaiian-style Christmas shirt. It's one Cassie bought him, Sam remembers, when she was a lot younger than she is now. She doesn't have to wonder if he wore it on purpose today. "Here," he says, offering Cassie the envelope.

Her expression shifts to one of nervous disbelief, as she takes it – and just holds onto it, for long enough that Jack shoots Sam another look and rolls his eyes.

" _Open_ it," he says, standing up to round the desk. 

Cassie flips the unsealed flap open and slides the papers out. 

"We thought you'd want this one before the main event," Jack says, voice slightly gentle as they watch her read the covering letter, the ink not even dry where Brigadier General Jack O'Neill just signed it off. "So if you want…"

Cassie's eyes are glistening with tears. "Really? I can… Really?"

"You can." Sam slides an arm around her shoulders, hugging her tight. She knows Cassie has a plan and was hoping, but obviously she hadn't actually let herself think about it actually coming true. "It's all there, she just has to sign."

It's been years since Jack picked her up, but one moment she's there beside Sam and the next he has two arms so full of ecstatic Cassie that he grunts in surprise before he manages to laugh, and desperately tries to put her feet back on the floor before she tips him over.

Sam laughs and steps him, hugging them both. "Daniel and your mom helped, too," she says. "And Walter."

"Walter helps with everything," Cassie says, wiping her eyes. And then, quietly but so happy it makes her voice tremble, " _Thank you_." 

Jack hooks a hand behind her neck and kisses the top of her head. "You're welcome. Now, why don't we go eat?"

  


* * *

  


Dinner is unsurprisingly excellent, but for the cranberry sauce which in Sam's opinion is surprisingly excellent given it was mostly her work from start to finish. Sarah and Cassie barely stop holding hands for the whole meal, and it's disgustingly adorable. Sam dares to do the same with Jack, and Daniel, and then both of them; when Jack gives Daniel a quick, sweet kiss she catches Sarah looking, no reaction but a smile passing between her and Cass. They even talk a little about Cassie's coming out, hear a few of Sarah's stories – another thing that wasn't in the background dossier, which Sam finds she's pleased by. It's the kind of thing she'd rather learn from a person than a piece of paper. 

She manages to murmur a quiet, "Thank you, sir," to Jack as they're clearing away: he checks quickly behind her and then his hand is on the back of her neck, light and loving for just a few seconds as he takes the plate she's carrying and kisses her instead.

"Good girl," he whispers in her ear, playful, and his fingers tighten just a little before he lets go. She doesn't see Daniel do the same, but she doesn't have to see it to be sure he's found a moment. 

Cassie immediately goes for the tree, and grabs Daniel to join her as he goes past; she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a huge, warm hug as soon as he sits down, and Sam's watching closely enough to catch the look she shoots Jack over his shoulder. 

Jack smiles back at her and tugs Sam over, and she feels like things are comfortable enough for her to cuddle up close as Cass and Daniel start handing gifts around.

Of course, their main gifts to each other are locked safely in the bedroom, but Jack's jokingly wrapped a selection of stolen Pentagon stationery – "For the nostalgia," he teases, which leads to giving Sarah a brief upshot of her career history – and Daniel's gift to her is a luxurious new set of leather motorcycle gloves, complete with a daringly open and wicked smile that says he wasn't thinking entirely about riding. 

To her delight, they're not the only one with in-jokes: both Cassie and Janet unwrap, in addition to some expensive and lovely perfume for Janet and a half dozen other things for Cassie, a signed set of first edition _Deep Six_ novels. Sarah explains mock-despairingly that this is the last in a long line of ploys, she's been trying to get them both to read her brother's books for _months_ now. 

Daniel immediately promises to hound Janet until she reads it, of course: Sam can practically see Sarah falling that little bit in love with him like everyone does, right in front of her eyes. 

It's when under the tree is bare for another year, Jack's served up the eggnog and Daniel's shuffled over to sit against the front of the couch – subtle enough, Sam thinks, not to seem odd – that she spots the look passing between Cassie and Janet. Her first instinct is to reach down and grab Daniel's hand, curl her fingers around Jack's wrist, nervous excitement and no small amount of fear gripping her.

This could go so right, but it could go so wrong.

Cassie turns to face Sarah, as serious as a proposal. In a way, Sam supposes, that's what this is. 

"I got you something else," Cassie says, carefully, almost rehearsed like a proposal too. "And I know this is going to sound _really_ weird, but you have to sign this before I can give it to you." She pulls out that unmarked, unsealed manila envelope and from it, hands Sarah what none of them need to see to know is the standard Homeworld Security NDA.

Sarah laughs, first. Sam isn't sure if that's a _good_ sign, but she doesn't think it's a bad one. "Sure," she says, obviously not serious. "Anyone have a pen I can use?"

"Here." Daniel grabs one of the Pentagon pens and tosses it to her. It's a subtle hint, but between that and most likely the way Cassie's vibrating with tension, Sarah sobers almost instantly.

"This is for real?" It seems to dawn on her that no one else is surprised, from the way she looks around. "You all – did you all do this already?"

Jack smiles. "Oh, a long, long time ago."

"It's nothing bad," Daniel assures her, that gentling _we come in peace_ voice that still, no one ever does quite as well as him.

Sarah takes a long look at the paper in her hand, flipping over to the second page. "The Espionage Act? Seriously?"

"You should probably read-" Cassie starts, and then Sarah's already scrawled her name beside Jack's and handed it back.

"Dangerous," Jack comments mildly. Sarah grins unrepentantly at him.

"I'm a quick reader." She smiles at Cassie, a look that turns soft and intimate. "And I trust you."

Oh, the smile Cass gives her… takes her face in both hands and kisses her, hugs her tightly, kisses her again until Sarah laughs.

"Okay, okay, I signed it, come on!"

Cass blushes, like she's just realised she's half making out with her girlfriend in front of them all. "Um. Okay." She reaches behind her chair and pulls out something relatively flat, wrapped in silver paper. Sam doesn't think it's a trick of the light that her hands are trembling as she hands it over.

Sarah tears the paper off with obvious excitement, giving Cass fleeting glances of curiosity the whole time. She manages to open it upside down, and Sam gets a brief but clear look before she turns it over.

The frame is dark wood, and the photo is of a gently rolling landscape of hills and fields: all bright lively greens and soft lilacs under a clear, pale blue sky dotted with clouds, with a cluster of tall, willowy windmills set against a town of domed buildings off in the distance. It could be Earth, but for the light being ever so slightly off, the color palette just slightly strange – that and the twin moons, faint as lace in the daytime, hanging in the sky. 

It could be mistaken for a matte painting, an incredibly good one, or maybe a Photoshopped image: hanging on Sarah's wall, it will be. Of course, Sam knows it's not.

Sarah's face lights up, obviously delighted, the strange introduction momentarily forgotten. "Oh, this is cool!" She leans over and kisses Cassie soundly on the lips. "I _love_ it. Thank you." 

"I'm glad you love it." Cassie looks up at her, and Sam can _feel_ how nervous she is. Daniel's fingers have a death grip on her own and Jack's arm is like steel behind her back, his hand on her hip bruising and grounding all at once. "That's where I was born."

Sarah looks again, looks nothing but confused. "But… no, you… what?"

"I'm… not from Toronto." Cassie takes a breath deep enough to swallow a mid-sized dwarf star. "I was born on a planet called Hanka. It's six-hundred light years from here. Sam and Daniel and Jack, and Teal'c – they found me there when I was eleven, and brought me back to Earth with them."

"You're kidding." Sarah stares at her. "You're really kidding. Right?"

"She's not kidding," Sam says. "We really did."

"So – what? You mean you're _not_ _human?!_ "

"Oh, she's human," Jack says. 

"Just not Earth human," Daniel adds. 

"It's a really long story," Cassie says. "Like, lots more eggnog long."

"Made plenty," Jack says. "Daniel, you wanna take the 'in nineteen-twenty-eight' part?"

  


* * *

  


Sam can't help but be impressed. She's seen grown officers with years of Top Secret clearance make a bigger deal about being read into the Program.

Sarah just shrugs and downs another mouthful of eggnog. "I took three semesters of Contemporary Science Fiction. I'm a writer, I think up weird shit all the time – I mean, this is _really_ weird, but it's cool _._ My girlfriend is from _another planet_." She's hugging a tearfully relieved Cassie to her, but she suddenly straightens up with a flash of glee. "Wait... does this mean I have higher security clearance than my brother?"

Sam can't help but laugh. "Where the Stargate Program is concerned, yes."

Sarah grins back. " _Sweet._ "

Jack matches her grin for grin and gestures with his glass. "See, I knew I was gonna like her."

  


* * *

  


Jack clicks the padlock closed and straightens it against Daniel's throat as he leans in for a kiss.

Daniel's sigh is quiet but relieved as he smiles, obediently parts his lips under Jack's tongue and murmurs a sleepy but sincere, "Thank you, sir," when Jack pulls back.

"Just don't sneak out to pee," Jack says, and pats Daniel's cage gently. He's making sure to keep his voice quiet, but Sam doesn't worry that anyone's going to hear. They've bunked Sarah and Cassie comfortably on the air mattress in the living room, Janet on the futon in Jack's study, and while the apartment isn't large the bedroom door is closed and locked. They all talked until it's nearly oh-three-hundred and despite being determined, Sarah was already snoring quietly by the time Sam hugged Cassie goodnight.

"Yes, sir," Daniel chuckles as he stretches back out on the bed. Sam tucks herself around him from behind, as Jack settles back in and pulls the duvet up around them.

"That went bizarrely well," he muses into the dark, sounding mildly surprised. 

"She is right, though." Daniel nestles closer, puts his head down over Jack's heart. "People come up with weirder fiction all the time. Remember Wormhole X-Treme?"

Sam shudders. "Don't remind me, that's still embarrassing to even think about."

"Cass wants to tell her about us tomorrow."

Sam drapes her leg over Daniel's, tucking herself tightly up behind him. "What did you tell her?"

"That it's up to her." Jack curls his fingers into Daniel's hair, hard enough to elicit a soft, intensely erotic little moan. "And that I'd make waffles." 

"Mmmm." Jack makes really good waffles. She trails her fingertips down Daniel's chest, giving a playful little scratch of nails as she closes in on the waistband of his pants. 

"You promised no playing," he protests, in possibly the least convincing tone she's ever heard. Jack snorts. 

"Until tomorrow. 's tomorrow."

Daniel muffles a whimper against Jack's skin. Sam smiles, kissing the side of his collar. He's warm and comfortable in her arms, so much more relaxed now that Jack's put it back on for him. It's this she misses most of all when she's on the _Hammond_ , just being close with them, all familiar skin and breath and heartbeats together.

"Shh, I just want to hold you," she murmurs, stroking her hand down. The silicon is almost as warm as his skin, and it's a soft hum of pleasure instead of a whimper when her hand closes gently around him. Her fingertips brush the soft skin of his balls, squeezed just enough for him to feel secure by the locked ring, and Daniel shivers back against her. 

"Mmm." He curls his hand behind her thigh in return, stroking his thumb behind her knee. Jack's hand settles on the back of her neck and she lets her eyes fall closed with a soft sigh of her own. She does miss this when she's away, but right now she's here – pressed close with them in their newest home, with the newest member of their crazy little family asleep in Cassie's arms next door.

"Pretty good Christmas," Jack mutters, shifting to get himself that last inch closer. Daniel hums, a half-asleep assent. Sam smiles.

"Yeah, it was."


End file.
